


Hearts Entwined

by CrashDevil (cjdevlin19)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Female Reader, Reader-Insert, Sex Magic, witch reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2018-10-11 21:09:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10474470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjdevlin19/pseuds/CrashDevil
Summary: Reader is a Wiccan from the 'French Mistake' Universe (ie our universe) who does a spell and ends up in the SPN universe. She isn't a fan, but eventually recognizes the world for what it is: a world with REAL magic. But real magic comes with real consequences.Disclaimer: Not even close to my best work, but it's fun to read and fun to write and I absolutely needed a distraction from the novel-length fics I have been writing.





	1. A Whole New World

You went to bed buzzing from the excitement of a spell well-done. Nothing special; just a non-descript love spell. One which wouldn't force someone else's will, but would put you where your true love could find you. You woke up... somewhere else.

Birdsong woke you, but the sun slowly crawling across your face made you sit up. You were in a clearing in the woods, wearing plain black pajama bottoms and the white camisole you went to bed in. You looked around in confusion, a thin veil of terror settling over you. "We're almost there, Dean. Cas said the dimensional disturbance came from right over here."

You looked around for a place to hide, but were unsuccessful before the owner of the voice walked into the clearing, phone in hand. He was incredibly tall, especially from your spot on the ground, with hazel eyes and long fluffy-looking dark blond hair. he put his phone in the pocket of his brown jacket and squatted down 10 feet away, looking much like one does when they're trying to get a stray dog to trust them. "Hey, you okay?" He asked, softly.

"No. I have no idea how I got here." Another man stepped out of the woods as you spoke. He was tall, too, but his hair was darker and shorter. He looked tired and grumpy, like he'd been woken up to come find you and he wasn't happy about it.

"Okay. That's okay. We'll figure this out." The soft-spoken one said, pulling his jacket off. He handed it to you and you put it on without a word. "I'm Sam."

"Y/n."

"So, what do you remember about last night?" Sam asked.

"Nothing abnormal. I did a love spell to put me in the vicinity of my soulmate, and then, I went to sleep."

"You're a witch?" The grumpy one asked.

"I'm a Wiccan, and I don't appreciate the prejudicial tone."

Grumpy scoffed and rolled his eyes. "She did it to herself. Can we go, now?"

"Dean."

Grumpy pulled his hands from his jacket pockets and threw them up in exasperation. "No, come on! Not only is she a witch, she's a _shitty_ witch. She's messin' with magic that's way beyond her scope."

Realization dawned on you as you looked between the men. "Wait a sec. I know you. You were in that sucky 3D remake of 'My Bloody Valentine', and _you_ were in the 'House of Wax' remake. Am I being Punk'd?"

"And now, we know what dimension she's from. 'The Padaleski/Ackles dimension', where our lives are a TV show and everyone's got weird fuckin' names."

"The dimension with no God or magic?" Sam asked, looking at the other man like he was missing something obvious.

"Yeah, so?"

"So, how'd she magic herself into our world? Either she _didn't_ do it, or she's such a powerful witch that she was able to do something that _we_ couldn't... that Virgil couldn't."

You stood, shrugging the jacket off. You caught on quickly to their thought track. You, or possibly someone else, pulled you out of your normal, non-magical dimension and brought you into the universe of that TV show Tumblr is obsessed with, and the grumpy Winchester (that was what their last name was, right?) obviously really disliked witches. You handed the jacket to Sam as he stood. "Okay. I get what's going on. I'm not freaking out, anymore. I'm gonna head out."

"What?! You're in a completely different universe. Where are you gonna go?" Sam asked.

"Anywhere. I'm a witch in a world with _actual_ magic. I can do anything."

"Yeah, that's not exactly-"

You waved dismissively as you walked away from them. "I have no interest in being your 'Monster of the Week'. I'll stay within the Rede, don't you worry."

Sam looked pointedly at Grumpy, who sighed. "Wait a minute." He walked up to you and you turned around, his boots crunching on the leaves and sticks. "You're in a new place. Looks like home, but it's not. Our world is much more dangerous than yours, witch power or not. We know a witch, super powerful, but always gettin' herself in trouble. Let us help you navigate this. In the very least, let us get you some shoes." He smiled slightly, as you looked down at your bare feet. It was a cute smile, much improved from the grumpy hungover look.

"Fine, but if I get the feeling that you're a danger to me, I'm out."

"That's reasonable." Sam said. "We're through here about 2 miles. you think you can walk or-"

"Sammy, carry the woman. What is the point of being Kong-sized if you don't carry fair maidens away?"

You laughed. "I can walk. Any good witch is gonna have Hobbit feet."

"Hairy?" Grumpy asked.

You laughed again. "No. Tough on the bottom. I run around in the forest barefoot _all_ the time. You can't do skyclad rituals if you have shoes on."

"Skyclad is...?" Grumpy started.

"Yes." Sam cut him off.

"Well, thanks for _that_ image."

**************************

You sat on a bed in a motel room, eating a burrito. You were wearing a grey hoodie Dean had grabbed from the Lost & Found and two slightly different black flip-flops.

"I don't want to call her. We can figure this out without her help."

"It's magic, Dean. The one thing that Rowena knows better than leeching power off of everybody around her is magic."

"And what if y/n actually is this super powerful witch you think she is? You think introducing her to Rowena is a good idea?"

"I think we don't have a lot of options here. You remember what she did with those prostitutes? She pinpointed the one with potential and used the other one as an attack dog."

"Do I get a say in this?" You called out. The bathroom sink, which they'd tried to cover their voices with, turned off and the door swung open. You hopped off the bed and walked over to them. "Okay, so I get the feeling that this Rowena is stupid powerful, but is always trying to accumulate more power because being powerful makes her feel like she's in control and further distances her from her squalid upbringing. You don't like her. You don't trust her, but when it comes to world-endy magic stuff, she's your speed dial, because she doesn't want the world to end, either. How close am I?"

They looked at each other. "Uh, pretty much bull's-eye." Sam answered.

"I always thought I should write for television." You said, smugly. "Look, I'm good to meet this chick. If she can shed some light on how I got here, why I got here and how to maybe get me home... I'm down. She's not gonna make me go Dark side. I picked Wicca instead of Voodoo for a reason. Okay? Call her, please. That's my... that's my say in this."

Dean chuckled. "Well... we can give her a call."

**************************

"You'd better make this worth my while, boys. That was a _long_ train ride." The redheaded woman complained as she walked into the motel room.

Sam shut the door behind her, leaning against it. "It... _might_ be worth it. This is y/n."

Rowena's breath caught as she looked at you. You stood and offered your hand to her. "Merry meet."

"She's a witch?" She asked in an awed whisper, walking around and looking you up and down. You dropped your hand as she continued to examine you. "I havenae seen anything like this. She's human?"

"She's right in front of you." You responded. "And yes, she's human."

"Oh, I'm sorry, lass." She smiled, brightly, dropping her designer handbag on the bed and clasping your hand in hers. "Merry meet, y/n. It's been a while since I had a proper greeting. Can I ask... where did you learn? Oh, what spells you must have at yer disposal. Was it the Grand Coven? Was it the Loughlins? I've always wanted a peek at that grimoire."

"Uh... Google? A couple Ravenwolf books?" You answered.

"She's not from around here." Dean said, putting a hand on your shoulder. The contact kinda made your knees weak.

"And where might she be from?"

"She's from... another dimension."

"Another dimension?" Rowena turned to Dean. "What other dimension?"

Dean and Sam looked at each other, seemingly forgetting how they'd decided to explain it. You took a deep breath. "I'm from a dimension where monsters and magic, it's all fake. I became a witch because I always felt like I was special, like I could make things happen, but I've never really tried any spells bigger than a... a protection spell here, a healing spell there, a few binding rituals against my bullies. Until two nights ago, when I-"

"Opened an interdimensional portal which brought you here?" Rowena asked, excitedly.

"Yes."

"What was the spell? Were you tryin' to get here?"

"Definitely not. It was a love spell. Just a... a spell to put me in the path of true love or something like that. I was lonely."

"A love spell?" Rowena asked, incredulously. She looked around the room. " _You_ needed a love spell? Well, I guess men find beauty and power intimidating no matter yer dimension. Isn't that right, Samuel?"

You blushed as Sam looked confused. No one had said you possessed beauty in a long time. "How did I get caught up in this?" Sam asked.

"Oh, you know why." Rowena looked at you, her eyes examining you again. "Now, girl, what did you say? In the spell, what did you say?"

"Um... exact wording is kind of hard... I read it out of this old Book of Shadows. Um..." You closed your eyes to facilitate memory. "'Aphrodite, swiftly hear my call. Rifle through the hearts of all. Find the heart twin to mine. Bring me into their...' eyeline? Or... eyeshine? I can't remember the last word."

Rowena closed her eyes and took a deep breath. You could tell she was trying not to giggle. She opened her eyes and turned to the boys. "And you both found her? Together?"

"Yeah? So, what?" Dean asked, confused.

The witch cleared her throat slightly. "Well, based on the spell... as rudimentary as it was... we can work on that, girl... You brought yourself to this dimension because this is where yer soulmate is. Yer soulmate being the man who was swiftly brought to you when you first arrived."

You looked at Sam and Dean. She was saying that one of them was your soulmate. The three of them were staring at you as your lips twitched and you began to giggle, which devolved into a huge fit of laughter. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!"

"What's happening?" Dean asked, walking around to stand next to Sam in front of you.

"She doesn't believe me, it seems." Rowena responded, indignantly. 

"Obviously, I was brought here..." You wiped at your eyes as you stopped laughing. "...because my soulmate is here, but there's no way it's either of these guys."

"Should we be offended? I feel offended." Dean said.

"Oh, come on!" You snorted. "Dean _despises_ witches, he's done nothing to hide that. And Sam..." You giggled. "Sam keeps looking at me like I'm somebody's lost puppy. There's no way..." You devolved into laughter again.

Rowena flicked her hair off of her shoulder and sighed, looking at the men, who both looked very uncomfortable. "Well, it seems that neither of the Winchesters are excited by the idea, either. I could be wrong. It has happened once or twice and, like I said, yer spell was... not very specific and it wasn't in Latin which would've cleared up a bit of the confusion..." She grabbed her bag off of the bed and opened it, pulling out a business card. "Yer very powerful. A little direction, you could be-" She made a pleased noise. "You could be the next grand thing in witchcraft. You could be the resurgence of Magick. The thing that puts us back on top, where we havenae been since the Burning Times."

"She's Wiccan. Doesn't seem like your kind of magic." Sam said, snatching the card from Rowena's hand.

"Ah, well. White witches have their place, too. Call me, if you want some direction." She pushed the purse up her arm and headed for the door.

"Thanks for... not much." Dean nodded at her, as he opened the motel room door.

You watched as Sam crushed the card in his hand and tossed it at a small trashcan next to the bathroom. It missed, rolling into the bathroom under the sink. You smiled at the men, still reeling from the laughter. "Anyway."

"All right. So, now we know it really _was_ you, we can work on getting you home." Dean said, flopping onto the bed.

You tucked your hair behind your ear and shrugged. "Maybe... not. Sure, I'm not native, but... I can't be the only one who's ever emigrated somewhere with nothing but the shirt on their back. I could... stay here, find the... soul that brought me here."

"You want to _stay_? You don't want to even _try_ to go home?" Dean asked.

"I don't have a lot of friends... in my world. I have family, but we're not close. I'll be missed for a few months, but... ultimately my disappearance will just be a mystery that people think about every once in a while, that no one really cries about." You took a deep breath and shook your head. "Here, I could start over. I could look for my soulmate and... maybe learn to do real magic for the good of-"

"Let me interrupt. Magic, real magic, it's not just 'light a candle, say a few words'. It's 'kill a cat, dig up the bones of a baby'. Even white magic..." Dean shook his head, dismissively. "There's not a lot white magic can do. That's why most witches go dark. 'An Harm Ye None' gets kinda hard to stick to when you figure out that you can get whatever you want _from_ anyone you want with just a flick of your wrist or a few words in Latin. You're gonna be tempted and I don't think you have the fortitude to stay Glinda."

"So, you think I should go home, where I'm the only real magic-user in the world?"

"Where your power is dulled to the point that you didn't know what you had until you did a spell that was way bigger than expected." 

"Look, we've been to your universe. It's safe there. You just have normal shit to worry about, like natural disasters and terrorists and-" Sam began, running his hand through his hair.

"President Trump." 

They blanched. "Donald?" Dean asked.

"With the hair and the spray tan?" Sam continued, looking perturbed. 

"Yeah. Got elected on a platform of anti-immigration and islamophobia. Is that... he's _not_ POTUS here?"

They chuckled, lightly. "No. President's a guy named Jeff Rooney, who was actually possessed by the Devil a few months ago and probably still a better president than the guy from 'The Apprentice'."

You nodded. "Yeah. I'm, uh, stickin' around. At least 'til 2020. The way things are going in _my_ America, no thank you, I'll stick with monsters and demons and magic over a Muslim Travel Ban and a cabinet of literal Nazis." You smiled at them. "Look, I appreciate the help you guys have given me. You got me shoes and a jacket. That's, literally, all I can ask. So, I'm gonna take a quick shower and then I'll get the hell out of your hair so you can go back to doing whatever it is that's got you twelve seasons of TV shenanigans back in my world." You rushed into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind you, bending over to pick the card up off of the ground. You uncrumpled it and smoothed it against the counter next to the sink. There was just a phone number on it. No name, no business, just eleven digits in a fancy script. You stuck it in the pocket of your hoodie and turned on the shower, before opening the bathroom window and climbing through it. You weren't going to let them send you home, and you weren't going to let them convince you to stay with them so they could keep an eye on you. You were going to fullfil your potential and see what White Magic really could do. 

************

"The Winchesters wanted to stifle you, didn't they?" Rowena asked, knowingly, as she poured you a cup of tea.

"They wanted to send me back. Witches are a  _joke_ where I come from. There is no magic there, so every witch I've ever met... All hat and no cauldron. Everyone knows that magic is fake, but they persist. Making threats they can't live up to, taking credit for things they had nothing to do with and it's made them the butt of endless ridicule. I can't go back there. Not knowing..." You sipped at the tea. "I have no interest in power, for power's sake, but I'd like to learn. I'd like to know what I am capable of. Please."

"Well, I wasn't able to take students for a very long time, so I don't know what my teaching style may be, but I'd gladly help you out, y/n. A lass like you deserves it, after living in a place like that, with all those fakers and wannabes. Now..." She crossed her legs and sat back in her chair. "I haven't done much white magic in several... hundred years. I went dark when the villagers chased me out of Scotland. It was the only way to survive. You understand. But I'm willing to dig out the  _old_ shadow tablets for you. One caveat: you'll need to learn Latin. First things being first. It's the foundation of good spellcraft."

"If you'll teach, I'm willing to learn."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexy times and magic start next chapter.


	2. Real Magic

You had to admit, Rowena's lifestyle was nice. She stayed in the best hotels, wore the nicest designer clothes, ate at the finest restaurants and as she took you under her wing, she made sure you were decked out in the finest of everything, too. You were sitting at a desk in the condo the two of you were staying in, book of Latin words in front of you, when a man in a black suit suddenly appeared in front of you. The suit might have been designer, but you weren't sure. It was definitely tailored for him, though, and the black silk tie was gorgeous. 

"Who are you?" He asked, a gruff British accent making his words a bit melodical.

"Uh..."

"She's nobody to _you_ , Fergus!" Rowena spit at him, pushing the man toward her bedroom. 

You flipped through the book, looking for words. " _Audiens susurros_." You whispered. Suddenly, you could hear the hushed voices in the bedroom with complete clarity.

"... Winchesters asked me to find you. I was hoping it was to finally put an end to your dark little life, but now... I'm thinking _she's_ the one they're really after." 

"Don't you dare tell the Winchesters where we are!"

"And why not, Mother? Who is she?"

"She is just a sweet, innocent young woman who has done absolutely nothing wrong, and yet the Winchesters want to sentence her to a lifetime in a Hell of mediocrity." 

"What are you babbling about?"

"She's from a different world, Fergus. One with no Heaven or Hell, no God or monsters. No magic. She doesn't belong _there,_ you know she doesn't. You could feel it just like I did when I first met her. She deserves to be here, learning the full extent of her power."

"Such a humanitarian, Mother. You expect me to believe that you are doing this for her? You have no designs to use her for your own ends once you're done teaching her?"

"Fergus! That's insulting. And not to me, to  _her._ She's Wiccan. Devoted her whole life to that ridiculous Rede. About as uncorruptable as a White Magic hippie could be."

"Gimme time with her. We'll see how uncorruptable she is."

"You can't have her, Fergus. She came to me. I'm not going to let you-"

"24 hours, uninterrupted. Or, Sam and Dean get your location and show up with witch-killing bullets. Your choice, Mother."

"You... No torture, understand, and you leave her soul alone."

"No guarantees."

As the door opened you whispered, " _Ad initium._ " and your hearing turned to normal. 

Rowena smiled as she sashayed in front of you. "Y/n, this is Fergus."

"Crowley. King of Hell. Pleasure." 

" _Fergus_ is going to take you for a few... a day or so. I have some... things to take care of. He promised to be on best behavior and he knows that I will come running at the first sign of something amiss." She said, pointedly, obviously talking to him, not you.

"Oh, stuff it, Mother. Y/n, grab whatever you need fer the night."

"'Mother'?" You asked, closing the book and tucking it under your arm.

"Well, you know I'm several hundred years old." Rowena responded.

"And some point during those centuries, you birthed the King of Hell?"

"No, I birthed a wee whiny, terrible, fat-" Rowena cut herself off as Crowley glared at her. "-who sold his soul, went to Hell, became a demon and eventually took over everything despite his obvious deficiencies." She finished, quickly.

Crowley rolled his eyes. "You're so caring and maternal. Go on, sorcerer's apprentice. Get your things."

************************

You bit your lip as you watched Crowley pour himself a drink. "You want one?" He asked.

"Um... I'm not sure."

"You think I'm going to try to corrupt you with a drink? I'd never dream. Scotch is my drink but I could get you anything you've ever wanted."

You swallowed. "I like sweet white wines. Not too dry."

A bottle of wine appeared in his hand and he poured it into a glass, before handing it to you. "That ginger whore has no idea what she's found in you, does she?" He sat down in the chair across from you and took a drink of his Scotch. You didn't answer, taking a drink of the wine to excuse your silence. "You were listening. My conversation with Mother, you heard it all. You heard how she spoke about you, how she acted like she owns you. All because she's teaching you a few phrases of a dead language."

"She doesn't own me. She isn't going to corrupt me... and neither are you." You replied.

"I don't plan to. No, this adventure is just to show you that you don't need _her_. You are the strongest witch I've ever met and I have more than my fair share of witches on my payroll. Rowena is using you, just like she uses everyone. You should break ties now, before she digs in too deep."

"And just stop learning?"

"Did she teach you how to eavesdrop on a conversation in the next room without moving from your seat?"

"No, but..."

"But? You don't need her. You could teach yourself, or find a better teacher."

You scoffed. "A better teacher? Like, say, Olivette? Oh, wait." You shook your head. "Crowley. Fergus. Whatever. The only teacher I have right now is your mother. You think I didn't know she was trying to manipulate me from the moment I came to her? From the moment she walked into the motel room and saw me? Come on, I'm not stupid. I just want to learn as much as I can from her, then go out into the world on my own. A force for good, with all the power I have at my disposal."

"She said you were devoted to the Wiccan thing. Why is that? Why white magic?"

"I grew up Christian. You know, 10 Commandments, the Golden Rule, all those parables and shit. It wasn't just church on Sunday 'cause my parents made me go. My parents _didn't_ go. I hitched rides with my friends to whatever church they went to. I put a lot of effort into being a good person."

"How did you go from that to this?"

You shrugged. "It didn't happen all at once. My grandma got me into Tarot, then I discovered crystal magic, and then, I had a bully and I learned about binding spells. She left me alone. All I did was write her name on a piece of paper, fold it three times and wrap a black thread around it nine times and... she never talked to me again. From there, I just started reading everything I could get my hands on. Put Judeo-Christian morals with a penchant for magic and you get Wicca. The Rule of Three is just the Golden Rule multiplied. The Commandments all boil down to 'An Harm Ye None'. I feel like I've always been Wiccan, just looking to find my way there." You leaned forward, setting your wine glass on the table between you. "So, you and your mother are fighting a losing battle. You're not gonna change who I am, fundamentally, with some enticements."

"Oh? And what are you going to do about the Winchesters? Because witch-killing bullets don't discriminate and those boys are gonna make assumptions when they find you with her."

You sighed. "Gimme your phone."

"Excuse me?"

"Your cell phone, I assume you have one. Hoping demons aren't Luddites. Give it to me." You replied, holding out your hand. He handed the smart phone over and you opened the contacts. A list of nicknames shined up at you. "What are they under?"

"'Moose' and 'Not Moose'."

You snorted a little at the names, then scrolled down to 'Moose' and pressed 'Dial'. Sam's voice greeted after two rings. "Did you find her?"

"Yeah. He found me."

"Y/n!"

"I knew she was with Rowena." Dean exclaimed in the background, confirming that you'd been put on speaker.

"Of _course_ , I was! _She_ doesn't want to send me back. She didn't decide I was gonna go Darth without even getting to know me. For the record, I'm Leia Organa, you jackasses."

"Okay, look, we didn't mean to offend you, y/n. We just- we've seen good people get lost in trying to do the right thing. You won't believe how easy it is to go from being the good guy to... to lying to everyone you-"

"Us, okay? It's happened to us." Dean interrupted. "One minute, you're doing what you think is right to help save the world and the next, you're covered in blood, staring at a pile of bodies, wondering how the fuck you got there. We don't care which Skywalker you are. Just make sure your lightsaber is pointed at the bad guys."

"Like Rowena." Sam supplied.

You rolled your eyes. "How am I supposed to learn without her?"

"We know Latin. Well, Sam knows Latin."

"And we've got plenty of books and rituals here. You could learn, safely, here."

"None of Magnus' stuff." Dean said, quietly, obviously to Sam, not you.

"We can help you. Safely, here at our place, away from Rowena."

"And you won't try to send me back?"

"What's the use? You wanna stay so bad, you'd just come back, right?" Dean asked.

"Right."

"So, where are you? We'll come get you." Sam asked.

"L.A."

*************************

The ride from L.A. to Kansas was slightly awkward and mostly silent, so you curled up in the backseat and napped some of the time away. You were just coming out of a dream when you heard hushed speaking in the front seat.

"She's kinda cute when she's sleeping. Looks almost like she's worth the frustration."

"Talk like that, Dean, we'll have to start calling you 'soulmates'."

"I'm not the one dreamin' 'bout her."

"That was once and it was just a coincidence that it was her."

"Whatever you say, Sammy. It's totally not my business to analyze your wet dreams, little brother."

"It wasn't even a- shut up." There was a silent moment. "She does look peaceful."

"Anyway. No talk of soulmates. That's too heavy for us."

"Yeah. God forbid two bachelors in their thirties entertain the idea of true love."

"Not bachelors. Hunters. You know, sworn enemy of her kind?"

"She's _Wiccan_ and that's not the important thing, Dean. The thing is, every time we've tried the love thing, we've tried it with normal women. Jessica and Amelia... Cassie and Lisa, for you. They were normal women and it didn't work because _our_ lives didn't mesh with theirs."

"You say that like it's 'The Odd Couple'. Jessica  _died_. Ben and Lisa almost died, too. It's not that our lives didn't mesh with theirs. Our lives rolled over theirs like a poison fog."

"That was kinda poetic."

"Well, there's a book of Shakespeare at the bunker I've been thumbing through."

There was another silence. "She's not normal, Dean. She's strong. We can teach her how to take care of herself."

"Somebody's really advocating for the soulmate angle. Hopin' it's you?"

"No. Well... It's just not something I've ever entertained, you know? 'Twue wuv'."

"Come on, that's fairy tale shit. No such thing."

You moaned loudly as you stretched out in the backseat and yawned as you sat up. "So... where are we?" You asked, pretending you hadn't heard any of their conversation.

"Coming up on Denver." Dean answered.

"We're about 5 hours from home." Sam said, turning around to look at you.

"And where is home, exactly? You said Kansas?"

"Lebanon, Kansas, a secret bunker. Home sweet Home."

"So...can we stop and grub? I'm starving."

"Yeah, I'll hit the next off-ramp. Burgers?" Dean asked.

"Sounds great."

***************************

The bunker was beautiful. You loved it. You slipped into life there even easier than you did life with Rowena. There was no pretense in the Men of Letters bunker, no pretending you were rich and no trying to remember all those different designers. You spent most of your time in the library, or camped in the kitchen with a bag of chips and a stack of books.

"Hey. How's the reading?" Sam asked, walking into the kitchen and heading for the fridge.

"Oh, awesome, actually. Look." You stood from your spot at the table, raising your hands in front of you. " _'_ _Personalis sole_ '." You smiled as a small glowing ball appeared, floating at eye-level.

"A personal sun?" Sam asked, looking around it.

"Yeah. I can make it brighter, make it follow me around. I mean, hands-free flashlight without the hinky headgear."

"How bright can you make it? It might come in handy if we need to blind somebody."

"I don't know. Let's see. ' _Lucidius_ '. ' _Lucidius_ '. ' _Lucidius_ '." You watched as the dot got brighter and brighter to the point where you had to close and cover your eyes.

"Shit. Guess so. Turn it off."

"' _Ad initium_ '." You giggled as the dot disappeared, and you and Sam blinked at each other for a few seconds. "Well, I guess white magic _can_ pack a punch."

Sam smiled at you, still trying to blink away the dot in the middle of his vision. "You are... very right. You want a sandwich?" He asked, turning back to grab the bread from the counter.

"No, I'm good. I polished off the last of the Doritos a couple hours ago."

"You aren't getting Dorito dust on the books, are you?"

You looked down at your fingers, then shrugged. "Nope. I've been Dorito-ing with my left and page-flipping with my right."

"Good, 'cause those books are irreplaceable."

"I know that. Bananas are hanging on the tree thing now. Helps with the bruising." You pointed across the kitchen to the cart where the coffee maker was.

"We now have a banana hanger. I guess that's what happens when you put a woman's touch into a bunker of men." Sam grabbed the peanut butter from the cabinet and set it next to the bread before crossing the kitchen to grab a banana.

"Yeah. Some practicality wins out." You smiled. 

"Hey, so Dean thinks he found a case. We're gonna head out in a couple hours. You gonna be okay to stick it out here?" Sam asked, cutting up his banana.

"I'm fine with it. Are you guys okay to let a witch hang out in your Batcave alone?"

"Just don't blow anything up with your magic and _I'm_ okay with it. It was kinda Dean's idea. He said we could take you with us, or leave you here and you could do less damage here." Sam said, smirking.

"You know, you would think I'd've grown on him by now."

"Well, it might take a few more weeks to break through his shell. He's still, you know..."

"Afraid he might fall in love with me if he gets close?" You joked. 

It was a common joke between you and Sam, that Dean was your soulmate and if he would only acknowledge that, everyone would be all the happier. If you were being honest with yourself, you were more compatible with Sam. Yes, he did sometimes still look at you like a lost puppy, but most of the time, he looked like he was trying to figure you out. Being examined so thoroughly, especially when he thought you weren't paying attention, it never failed to give you chills. The fact that he showed interest in your magical pursuits was icing on the cake. 

Sam laughed, smashing his sandwich together. "Yeah, exactly."

************

You were working on levitation when you got the call to your new burner phone. You placed the book on the map table next to the dumbbell you were trying to lift and answered the phone. "You know, the kids in Harry Potter made levitation look so damn easy. It's not, FYI. So, how's your hunt going?"

"I'm gonna need your help, ASAP." Dean's voice was serious, but not panicked, so you didn't let any panic hit you.

"Okay."

"We were investigating an underground club. We were pretty sure that it was just some fake-ass, wannabe demon worship as an excuse for orgies, but there's at least one real witch here and they've got Sam."

"What?!"

"He's fine. They've got him in a basement room and they didn't take his cell phone away, but he's in a room that doesn't have a door, somehow. Now, I could go in, guns blazing and try to get him out but I'm feeling stealth is the best way to go about this. I got an invite to the club from the first guy we interviewed, but they won't let me in without a woman on my arm."

"'Cause you don't want the ratio off when it comes to those Satanic orgies." You said, with understanding. "Okay. I'll grab one of the cars and I'll be there soon. What should I bring?"

"Uh... a dress. Preferably something tight and low-cut. Also, uh, in my room, there's a tuxedo. Bring that for me, too."

"Okay. Text me the motel and room number. I'll be there as soon as possible."

********************

You handed Dean the hanger with his tuxedo on it as soon as he opened the motel room door. Dean raised an eyebrow as he looked at you. "What?" You asked, hanging your dress in the bathroom and turning back to him.

"You're wearing makeup."

"Yeah. I had to stop at a CVS on the way here. Figured if I'm dressing up, I should extend that to rouge and lipstain. What? Does it look bad? I did it while I was driving, so..."

"No. It, uh... you look good."

"Oh, that's what it takes to break your shell, some face paint?"

"Hey, my shell is completely intact." He rebutted, but he smiled that real smile that made his eyes sparkle like emeralds. "You go on and get dressed, I'll get my tux on and then we can go save Sam."

When you exited the bathroom, after double- and triple-checking yourself in the mirror, Dean was standing in front of the flat-screen TV using it as a mirror as he tried to tie his bowtie. "You don't, by any chance, know how to tie one of these, do you?" He asked, not turning around.

"Not at all, but you can pull up a how-to on your laptop and we'll figure this out together." You answered, dropping your street clothes on the bed and walking over to Dean.

"You know, I don't know how I managed to tie this thing last time." Dean turned to grab his computer, but stopped to stare at you. His jaw dropped a little as his eyes roamed over you. "That's a nice dress." You smiled, tightly, crossing your arms across your chest, where the dress dipped into your cleavage.

"Well, you asked for 'tight and low-cut'."

"And you delivered. Jesus." He stared for another few long seconds, before turning to grab the laptop off the table next to the TV. You smoothed down the shiny black fabric of your dress, moving the dress so that the split in the side didn't show so much of your leg. Dean pulled up a WikiHow article on how to tie the bowtie and showed it to you. You looked from the screen to the tie, following the steps on the site until you were tightening the knot and stepping back. "How's it look?"

You nodded. He looked amazing. Though he was obviously just as uncomfortable in the tuxedo suit as you were in your tight dress, he looked amazing. "You look great. Now, let's go save your little brother." You said, grabbing your clutch purse off of the bed and heading out.

***************************

The door opened and the bouncer, who was not at all subtly checking you out, let you and Dean in. As you walked down the long dark hallway, trying not to sway on your heels, you swallowed. "I'm about to be looked at like a piece of meat, aren't I?"

"Sexiest piece of meat I've ever seen." He muttered.

You chuckled, stopping and turning to him in the middle of the hallway. "Okay, so, what's the plan? We're in."

"Now, we look for Sam."

"And hope that nobody realizes that the new couple are looking for the basement?"

Dean shrugged, putting his arm around you and walking you down the hall. The main room was full of plush red and black couches. There were naked and half-naked groups of two and three and five and you averted your eyes, looking around the walls for a door. Dean suddenly tightened his grip, spinning you so that your back was against the closest wall. His lips suddenly attacked yours passionately, his hands going to the back of your neck. He pulled away from your lips, dropping his left hand to your leg and hitching it on his hip. He dipped his head next to your ear. "Sorry." He whispered. "There were a couple guys looking like they wanted to come swing with us. Kinda figured you'd rather an uninvited grope session with me."

You couldn't control your accelerated heart rate or the way your breath was coming in short. That kiss had been sexy, the hottest kiss you'd ever had, and the way you could feel his heart beating in his chest confirmed it was pretty damn good for him, too. "Dean."

"Hey, don't worry. Your virtue will be intact when we find your soulmate. I won't go further than necessary." His breath in your ear as he whispered put a chill down your back.

You turned your head to give him better access as he started kissing your neck. "Sam thinks it's you."

"Your soulmate?" He mumbled against your skin. You rubbed against him a little, the heat pooling in between your legs making it difficult to stand still. He groaned and his grip on your bare thigh tightened. "Gonna get me worked up like that."

You swallowed, thickly. You suddenly wanted to get him worked up. "Maybe I want that."

"What, so you can blue-ball me?" He pulled away a little and looked back at the men you hadn't noticed before. You could see the predatory look on their faces, now.

You brought your hands up to rub his chest. "Anything about me make you think I'm a tease, Winchester?"

He pushed you into wall, harder, rubbing his semi-hard erection against your core. "Thought you were looking for love? I'm not exactly Prince Charming." He pulled back and looked at you, his green eyes dark in the low light.

You tightened the hold your leg had on his hip. "I am, but if you're not... why can't we-" You cut yourself off, closing your eyes as he pulled your dress out of the way and began to work his fingers across your clit. You had opted to go commando to defeat panty-lines, so you were completely at the mercy of his fingertips. You grabbed his shoulders and held on tightly, his middle finger slipping down and disappearing inside of you as his thumb made little circles around your clit. "Fuck, Dean."

"Shouldn't do this." He nipped lightly at your neck, his middle digit fucking you slowly. "Sam's gonna hate me." 

"Why?" You asked, eyes closed, grip still tight on his shoulders.

"He wants you. He wants to be your true love. He told our mom about you." He added his first finger to the middle finger and curled them against your inner walls.

"Mm?" You couldn't converse with him. You couldn't do anything except hold on for dear life as he fucked you with his hand.

"I told him I didn't want you. Fuckin' lied." He rubbed his erection, which was noticeably harder than before, against you. "You ever been fucked in front of a roomful of people?"

"Nh-hn." You shook your head, slightly.

"Gotta say, it's one of those secret fantasies of mine. Love to have a whole bunch of people listening to somebody as I make them moan and scream and shout my name. You want everyone in here to hear you scream my name?" 

"Dean, please." You begged in a whisper.

The sound of his zipper sent a thrill through you and Dean didn't miss a beat with his right hand as he undid his pants with his left. He pulled his hand away, grabbed your other leg and wrapped it around his waist. You opened your eyes when you heard him sucking on his fingers. "You taste so good." He whispered, before supporting you with his weight against the wall and holding you up with a hand on your ass. He used his other hand to guide his cock to your entrance. Your moan was unavoidable when he pushed in slowly. "Ugh, you _feel_ better than you taste."

"How big are you? You feel-" You hadn't seen it. Your eyes had been closed.

"Oh, I don't wanna brag." He chuckled as he pulled back his hips a little and slammed them forward. You leaned forward, clinging to him. This was new. Missionary and Doggy were the extent of your personal Kama Sutra. You'd never had any sex that didn't involve a bed. "You are so wet."

"Dea- holy shit." You moaned and he started to pound into you. His breathing was measured, his heart pounding hard, but not anywhere near as fast as yours. You were rapidly approaching oblivion, his dick rubbing you just right and the head hitting your cervix. "Fuck. Fuck. Dean, I can't- I..."

"Oh, you go ahead and cum, baby. Let's see how many O's we can get you." He reached between you and rubbed your clit, very lightly. He barely touched it, but it was just enough. You threw your head back as the wave crashed over you, pleasure moving from your core through your entire body. Dean pulled out and pushed your legs off of his waist. He bent you over, grabbing a handful of your ass cheek and slapping it before reentering you, both hands gripping your hips. You were glad for your high heels, the only thing keeping you at a close enough height for him to fuck you standing. His right hand stayed on your hip, but his left moved to your breast lavishing them with attention. 

You slapped your hand against the wall, moaning loudly. You wouldn't have been surprised to learn that you were the loudest person in this underground sex club. Your mind tried to think about the fact that people were looking at you; that somewhere in this room, your moans were fueling someone's masturbation, but you couldn't hold onto the thought as Dean picked up the pace. "Fuck, so good. So goddamn... you are amazing. So beautiful, so tight, so wet."

Another wave crashed over you. This one wasn't so strong, but it rolled for so much longer as he just kept kneading your breast and slamming his hips into your ass. You realized that your moans had turned into nonsensical ramblings of his name, mixed with different iterations of the Divine. He seemed to know he was almost to his own orgasm, because he slowed down. The hand that had been aggressively kneading your breast moved back between your legs and danced across your little nub of nerves. It didn't take much to push you over the edge, clawing at the wall as Dean stepped back.

He ran his fist up and down his length, which you turned to look at for the first time. 9 (maybe 10?) inches long and an impressive girth, it was dripping from your juices and the head was leaking precum. You dropped to your knees in front of him, licking the precum off and opening your mouth as a receptacle for him as he fisted a hand into your hair and continued jacking off. It was three spurts, some drops hitting the back of your throat. You swallowed and licked the head again, before standing. You were wobbly on your heels, with your sex-melted legs.

You cleared your throat, straightening your dress and pulling your hair back into your loose bun. Dean straightened his shirt, pulled his pants back up and fastening them before pulling his cummerbund back down and clearing his throat. "Let's, uh..."

"Find Sam. Right." Dean said, looking around. "We... gotta not say anything to him about-"

"Right. Yeah. Let's... no reason to mention this to anybody... even ourselves ever-"

"Right. Yeah, we can just forget that this-"

"Right. Let's stop saying 'right'."

"And go find Sam." Dean nodded, then pointed to a door on the left side of the room. "I'll take this door."

"And I'll take this one." You started toward the one on the right. You leaned against the door as soon as you closed it. That had happened so fast. You'd gone from being sure Dean would always kinda hate you because you're a witch, to... 

And that had escalated so quickly, too. Gone so seamlessly from flirtation to fucking. You shook your head and took a deep breath before heading down the staircase in front of you.

**************************************************  

Getting Sam out was uneventful, but how excited he sounded when he heard you on the other side of the magic moving wall/door made you feel guilty. You insisted on taking the first shower when the three of you made it back to the motel and Sam defended you when Dean complained that you hadn't been the one to gank the witch, that you didn't do any of the dirty work. You kicked yourself for not seeing it. Sam was overly considerate to you. You weren't just compatible with him, he actually cared... and you'd somehow ended up fucking his witch-hater brother. You examined your body in the mirror as you dried off. There were several small bruises on your thigh. Fingertips. You ran a hand down your face. * _What was I thinking?_ * 

You pulled your normal jeans and t-shirt on and pulled your hair into a wet ponytail and exited the bathroom. Dean was on his laptop; he'd called dibs on the second shower, but when he looked up and saw how you were looking at Sam, he cleared his throat. "Sammy, why don't you go ahead? You _are_  the one who just spent 12 hours in a sex dungeon's oubliette."

"Thanks." Sam jumped up from the other side of the small round table and grabbed his bag before running into the bathroom.

As soon as the shower turned on, Dean was in front of you. "You can _not_  tell my brother what we did." 

You turned away, putting your dress on its hanger and hanging it from a light fixture. "Why not?"

Dean grabbed your shoulder and turned you back to him. "He will hate me. Last time I did something to make him hate me, I had to die for him to get over it and I'm not willing to go that far for something that is never gonna happen again." You bit your lip but didn't say anything, so Dean pulled his hand away and licked his lips as he ran it through his hair. "Besides, I'm not sure that was even _us_."

Your eyes snapped up to his. "What does _that_  mean?"

"Miralda's magic ran on sexual energy, right? So, maybe she had a mojo on the club. That's why we couldn't stop ourselves. So, it doesn't need to be a thing."

You wanted to feel offended that he wouldn't admit that he may have just wanted you, but thinking back on the situation it made sense, so you couldn't bring yourself to anger. "Okay."

"So, we never have to talk about it, because it was magic, so it doesn't count. And Sam _never_  knows." 

"Sure." You said, grabbing your dress and heels. "I'll meet you guys back at the bunker."

"You sure you're good to drive?"

"I'm fine. It's not like I pulled any weight at the club. You're the one who dropped Miralda. I just opened a magic wall/door. It's only 5 hours drive. I got it." You assured as you pushed past him.


	3. Take a Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So much sex. Lots and lots. There's some oral sex, some unprotected sex, some phone sex, which means masturbation. Enjoy.

You had a 20lb dumbbell floating in the air when Sam and Dean walked in from the garage. Dean walked straight through to the bedrooms, not even looking toward you. Sam bounded toward you, happily. "Wow! You couldn't even raise your cell phone when we left!"

"Yeah, I-" You lost your concentration and the dumbbell dropped from the air. Sam grabbed it out of the air like it was nothing.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to distract you." He dropped the dumbbell on the table with a thunk and turned to you, with a smile. "Maybe you should take a break." He leaned against the table, looking down at you.

"A break?"

"Yeah. You've been working on the magic almost nonstop for weeks. You don't want to get burned out. Take a break."

"I'm pretty sure that's what I was doing in Indiana when I rescued you from the nowhere room."

"No. Come on. A real break. We can bring up a movie on Netflix, have something to eat. What do you say? The dumbbell can levitate tomorrow."

You smiled. "Okay. Sure, let's watch a movie and I can make some caramel popcorn. What do you think?"

"Sounds good. I'll go bring up the Netflix in my room."

*****************  

Two hours later, you tiptoed out of Sam's room with a mostly full bowl of caramel popcorn in your arms. You took it to the kitchen, intending to put the leftovers in a large Ziploc bag. Dean was sitting at the table, laptop and a glass of whiskey in front of him. He looked up from his screen and picked up his glass. "How was that whole 'Netflix and Chill' thing?" 

You took a deep breath and turned to him, setting the bowl on the counter. "It was 'Netflix and extremely chill'. He fell asleep. Must've been exhausted." You answered, grabbing a Ziploc and pulling it open.

"Man. That sucks. I wouldn't have made him drive home if I'd known he was gonna make his move tonight. Figured he would be fine. He didn't _do_  anything while he was in the oubliette." Dean stood and walked over, grabbing a handful of popcorn out of the bowl. "Don't worry. There's always tomorrow."

You stepped away from Dean as he shoved popcorn into his mouth. You couldn't stop thinking about the club. "Yeah. Not worried." You answered, tipping the bowl into the bag and zipping it.

"This shit tastes great." Dean said, his mouth full. He grabbed the bag from your hand and took it back to the table, licking his lips. You sighed and turned to the fridge. You wanted to talk to him about the club, because you couldn't stop thinking about it and your whole body was hot just from the thinking. You'd agreed to not talk about it, though, so you simply grabbed a beer from the fridge and popped the cap off the bottle by levering it against the counter. You walked out of the kitchen, bottle to your lips, making certain not to look at Dean.

The beer didn't help. You took a shower; that didn't help. You tried to sleep; that didn't work and definitely didn't help. Touching yourself didn't help, either. Frustrated, at midnight you put on shorts and a spaghetti-strap tank top and made your way to the weight room. You called it that because it wasn't a gym, really. Just a couple old sets of weights and medicine balls and two old stationary bikes. Your focus, however, was the punching bags hanging in the corner. They were a new addition, a silver Everlast heavy bag that didn't look like it had gotten much use, and a red speed bag that definitely did. You threw several punches at the silver bag, enjoying the thud of your knuckles on the material. 

You were covered in sweat and your knuckles were bleeding when you moved from the heavy to the speed bag. It wasn't working. You were still horny. Now, though, your hands hurt on top of the ache between your legs. Several minutes with the speed bag just served to frustrate you more. You shouted at the bag and it moved like you'd punched it again.

"Hey! My speed bag ain't made for... psychic punches." Dean called from the doorway.

You growled. "Of course, you're here." You said to yourself.

"You all right?" 

"I'm fine." You replied, turning your back to him and trying to hide your hands from him. 

"Let me try again. 'How are you doing? Because my punching bag seems to think you're having issues.'" Dean's voice was right behind you. 

"Your punching bag can suck my-" You took a deep breath and turned around, smiling tightly at the older Winchester. "I'm fine."

"Really? 'Cause I was thinkin' maybe we're still under Miralda's whammy." Dean grabbed your right hand and rubbed his thumb lightly over the wounded knuckles. "I tried to sleep it away; that's why Sammy had to drive. Tried to drink it away, and cold-shower it away. I even went running. I _hate_ running." He looked down into your eyes. "I have jerked off twice, but I can't stop thinking about you. Been walking around with a semi since the club." He licked his lips and you looked away from him.

"Don't lick your lips like that." You whispered, biting your bottom lip.

Dean rubbed his thumb across your mouth. "I was gonna say the same about _your_ lip. Makes me think of all the things I could do with that mouth."

"So, what do we do?" You asked, darting your tongue out to lick his thumb.

"We could wait it out. We could try to reverse it. We could keep beating ourselves up about it, or..." He grabbed the waistband of your shorts and pulled you closer to him. "We could fuck until it wears off, keep it a secret from Sam and then forget all about it because..."

"It doesn't count if it's magic, right?" You answered, grabbing his belt and unfastening it. 

"Uh-uh. This is too public. Sam hits the gym as soon as he wakes up and it would break his heart... ooh, and I really want to fuck you on my bed. I want to smell you on my mattress." Dean pulled you by the hand out of the gym. 

You followed him, an almost giddy feeling rising up in you. He stopped in his doorway and dipped his head down, his full lips crashing into yours. Your hands grasped at the back of his head as you opened your mouth and pushed your tongue into his mouth. He pulled away, breathing hard. "We gotta be quiet. Last thing we need is for Sam to wake up 'cause you're moaning like a whore." 

"Hey!" You whispered, breathlessly. 

"I didn't say you were one." He grabbed your shirt and pulled you into the room. He kicked the door closed with his foot and attacked your neck with his mouth. "But you have to admit that your performance in the club was Brazzers-worthy. Moaning and rambling my name. It was hot, don't get me wrong..." He pulled your shirt and sports bra over your head and dropped them at your feet. "...but if we're gonna do this, y/n, it's gotta be done on 'mute'."

"That's fine. You sure you can do this without telling me how wet and tight I am?" You asked, smirking and shimmying out of your shorts. 

"Oh, I'll put forth the effort." Dean turned around, grabbed the edge of his mattress and pushed it off of the boxspring. It hit the floor with a soft thud. "Can't risk wakin' him with a squeaky 1950s bedframe." You chuckled, lightly, as you unbuttoned his jeans and pulled the zipper down. "Get on the bed." Dean ordered.

You flopped onto the mattress, leaning on your arms and looking up at him as he stripped off his t-shirt and jeans. Up close, in good lighting, you couldn't help but marvel at him. He wasn't svelte, that's true. His body was one of a man who liked his bacon cheeseburgers and who hated running. His muscles weren't for show. They were made and maintained by practical application. They were the muscles of a hunter, a hero. 

He dropped to his knees on the mattress, crawling toward you. You pushed backward, making sure your head hit the pillow. "You start making too much noise and that pillow is going over your face." Dean warned. You nodded your understanding and pressed your lips together in a thin line and Dean smiled before laying himself between your legs and kissing a trail up your inner thigh.

Quiet was easy. You'd spent most of your lifetime masturbating in a bedroom right next to your parents' room, so you had learned how to not get caught by your own moans. Now, the sounds two bodies make when they come together or the movement of a bed hitting the wall, that was something different. Uncontrollable. Unless...

The mattress on the floor kept the bedframe from squeaking, the headboard from hitting the wall, and to stop the frantic symphony of skin slapping skin Dean forwent the harsh hard fucking that he'd gone for at the club, opting for a 'beast with two backs' approach. Moving in unison, your bodies tangled together and sweat clinging to you, your orgasm was a slow build; but when it finally crashed over you, with just a tiny bit of pressure on your clit, it was enough to put stars in your eyes and pull a loud moan from your throat. Dean grunted as he slapped a hand down over your mouth. "Shh!"

He pulled away, sliding the condom off and tossing it at a small plastic trashcan by his door. He flopped on his back on the mattress next to you. You pulled your arm up to look at your watch. "I've never... 3 hours, Dean. That is _some_ stamina."

"Oh, that's nothing. I went 8 hours with an ex once, only stopped for food and water. She was a yoga instructor, though, so she was into that tantric love shit."

You sat up, looking around the little room for your clothes. "I should probably..."

Dean nodded, sitting up next to you. "Yeah. If Sam isn't already awake, he will be soon, so..."

"Right. You have to de-sex your room, too. Just in case, you know." You gestured toward the condom hanging from edge of the trashcan.

Dean nodded. "Yeah. It'd be hard to explain why I needed a condom."

You stood, quickly getting dressed and pulling your hair back up into a ponytail. You looked down at him, sitting naked on his mattress. You bit your lip, then licked it. "We have to look into... breaking this..."

"Yeah." Dean stood, grabbing his boxer briefs and pulling them on. "I mean, it's been fun and all, but... the longer this goes on, the more opportunity for something to go wrong. You wanna get into the books or-"

"I need a shower and some sleep first, but yeah, I'll hit the books. Maybe call Rowena and hit her with a 'asking for a friend' kinda thing."

"Do _not_ do that. She will know and she won't keep it to herself; you know she won't. We can figure this out."

You put your hand on the doorknob and sighed. "I will hit the books later. Um... maybe you should try to find a case? I think it'll be harder for me to concentrate if you're around."

He chuckled. "I'm already fantasizing about going again, so I completely agree, sweetheart. I'm hitting the internet as soon as you walk out."

You scoffed and shook your head, opening the door and sneaking out into the hallway. You grabbed a towel and ran for the bathroom, flipping the sign on the door to say 'occupied'.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Didn't you sleep last night, Dean?" Sam's voice hit you as you walked toward the kitchen.

"No. I, uh, slept in the car, so I couldn't sleep here. Now, of course, I'm exhausted, but it's fine. Found a case while you were 'Netflix and snooze'-ing with the witch." The lie flowed easily from the Hunter and you were a bit jealous of how good he was at lying.

"Dean, can you at least _pretend_ that she's a good person who helped you save me from that witch yesterday?"

"Dude, I didn't need her. She just made it easier to get inside. Look, I know you've got that puppy love thing goin' for her, Sam, and I'm fine to keep her around for that, but don't act like we _need_ her."

You tried to hold onto the feeling of indignation that welled up in you at his words as you walked into the kitchen, but as soon as your eyes fell on Dean, sitting at the table with his laptop in front of him and one of those small 1950s coffee cups in his hand, your breath caught and you involuntarily bit your lip. You closed your eyes, forced a deep, even breath and continued your walk to the fridge. As you passed Dean, you noticed that he was affected, too. He didn't show it in the same way you did, a testament to his control, but he shifted in his seat and pulled the legs of his pants down. "So, you're going out on another case?" You asked, trying to stay nonchalant.

"Yeah. Chick in Farmington, Maine is absolutely certain she was assaulted by her dead sister last night. Locals are treating her like she's batshit, but it might be one of ours. Something definitely put her in the hospital. So, it could be witchcraft, shifter, ghoul. We're gonna go check it out." Dean stood and cleared his throat. "I'm gonna grab a whore's bath and then we can head out."

Sam nodded as Dean started out of the room. "Okay. I'll meet you in the garage." Sam said, as Dean walked out.

"Maine's a long drive. I'll make you guys a couple sandwiches for the trip." You offered, grabbing a loaf of bread off the shelf.

"That'd be great. Thanks." Sam walked around and leaned against the fridge. "So, I'm sorry I fell asleep last night. I got so comfy lying next to you that I just conked out."

"It's okay. _Snowpiercer_ starts pretty slow, I don't blame you for falling out before the good parts." You turned to him with a smile.

"Well, we'll have to try again when I get back."

"Yeah, okay. You better get some sleep beforehand this time. It's a good movie."

"I promise, I won't fall asleep next time." Sam smiled down at you, then pushed his hair behind his ears and pushed away from the fridge. "Guess I should go get ready."

You nodded and smiled to yourself as he walked out of the kitchen and you walked toward a seldom-used pantry to grab a new jar of peanut butter. Sam was great. As you reached for the jar, on the top shelf, the door closed behind you. You turned, peanut butter in hand, to see Dean. He pushed you into the shelf and kissed you, pulling your shorts down. "One more time." He whispered, pulling the jar from your hands and putting it on the shelf.

"Dean. We can't. Sam's gonna-" You whispered, but you were already shimmying your underwear down to your feet.

"Shut up. I just have to... taste you real quick. Just a quickie before I go." Dean dropped to his knees in front of you, pulling your foot up to rest on his shoulder as he delved his tongue into your folds. He licked at you, eagerly and hungrily, moaning happily at the taste. You closed your eyes, forcing yourself to be quiet as his tongue swirled around your clit between broad stripes up and down your slit. Dean stood, quickly dropping his jeans and picking you up with those strong hands on your hips, wrapping your legs around his waist as he entered you. "God, you..." He groaned as he began to thrust into you. You reached above your head and grabbed the edge of the shelf to steady yourself. "I'm sorry. Just couldn't... oh, we gotta fix this." He grunted into your ear as he bit at your neck and the cleavage of your breasts through the thin material of your tank top.

Your breath was coming in short as the items on the shelf began to shake in time with Dean's thrusts. "Dean. Oh, fu- Dean. Oh, god. Harder." You whispered.

"Hey, y/n." Sam's voice came through the door from the kitchen.

You took a deep breath as Dean slowed down, but didn't stop. "Yeah?" You squeaked.

"Can you do peanut-butter banana for mine?"

Dean licked at your jugular and you had to hold back a moan. "Way ahead of you."

"Creamy?" Sam's voice was closer now.

"Yeah. Just go get ready. I'll have your sandwiches ready in ten..." Dean thrust into you hard, at that. "...Ah! I mean, fifteen. Go ahead."

"Uh... okay." He sounded skeptical but retreated, anyway.

As Sam's footsteps retreated from the kitchen, Dean lifted you away from the shelf and dropped you to the floor, never pulling out of you. He hammered into you, his pace completely unforgiving, and you lifted your hips to meet every thrust. "I can't... Dean, I'm gonna..." You tightened your legs around him, your heels digging hard into the small of his back. You covered your mouth and nose as you came hard, clenching your walls around his dick. He grunted and pulled back, just in time to cum all over the floor between your thighs. You looked down, your brain clearing a bit in the aftermath. You took a deep breath and looked between your legs. "That was close." You said, breathlessly.

Dean looked down and shook his head. "Shit. I'm sorry. I just... I think the more we do this, the less control I've got."

"Well, then, carry a condom, because I can't deal with a baby." You spat, standing up and grabbing your shorts.

"Yeah, me either." Dean said, pushing his dick back into his jeans and standing. "Look, I'm sorry. I just... I was thinking about how I wasn't going to see you for a few days, goin' almost 2,000 miles, that I wouldn't be able to... I'm gonna go. Uh, turkey for mine."

You pulled your shorts on and grabbed the peanut butter from the shelf as he disappeared from the pantry. You were pissed. It was wrong. Sam was sweet and he liked you. This sneaking around was stupid. Sam would understand a spell, right? He's been a Hunter his whole life, he must've been cursed before.

You made it to the garage before either of the guys and you were silently thankful for that as you pulled open the green Coleman cooler and put two large Tupperware containers inside. You turned around to see Sam walking in with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. You smiled at him and stepped out of the way of the backseat so that he could drop his bag in the back. "You guys have fun in Maine, okay?"

"Maybe you should come with us." Sam suggested, turning to you and leaning against the door to close it.

A pit hit your stomach at the thought. You _needed_ to be away from Dean. You wanted to be near him, and the fire in your core wanted you to say 'yes', but you knew you need to be away from him so that you could focus on fixing the problem before it got worse. "Nah. I gotta work on the magic stuff. Took a break yesterday, remember?" You said, forcing a smile.

"All right, well... thanks for the sandwiches. Netflix night when I get back, right?"

"Right." You responded, stepping toward the door as Dean walked through it. You swallowed and stepped to the side as he stomped toward his precious car. Your eyes flicked to Sam, whose eyebrows were brought together in deep wrinkles. He must've noticed the tension. "You guys have a good hunt." You called, rushing out of the garage.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam called almost 12 hours later, as you poured over as many books as you could find about sex magic (which was a lot considering the bunker used to be full of stuffy old men). The feelings of lust had dissipated as the hours passed. Lack of contact, physical and visual, had made the curse back off. You were glad for it. It meant you could think and research on how to reverse the curse. "Hey, Sam. Where are you guys?"

"We're at a rest stop near South Bend, Indiana. We're gonna take a few hours, grab some shuteye. Just wanted to check on you before we went dark, and uh, thank you for the sandwiches. Did you brûlée the bananas?"

You chuckled. You'd thrown some sugar on the slices and torched them with your personal sun before you put them on the sandwiches. "Uh, yeah. Did you like it?"

"I loved it! It was, honestly, the best sandwich I've ever had." There was some noise off in the distance on Sam's side of the phone call. "Hey, uh, I guess Dean needs to talk to you about something. I'm gonna hit the head. Don't forget how to make those brûlée bananas, 'cause I'm gonna want some more when I get back to the bunker."

"Okay. Good night, Sam." You smiled, involuntarily.

"Yeah, good night, y/n."

There was a few minutes of silence on the other end of the call. "Hey, you find anything, yet?"

Your mouth watered and your body heated up at the sound of his voice. You sighed, deeply. "Uh, yeah. Nothing good." You answered, trying to focus. "Um, I managed to identify a few of the markings on the outside of Miralda's club. They were evocations of Pan, which makes so much sense."

"How does that make sense?"

"Don't talk. I need to concentrate." You snapped, before taking a deep breath. "Pan is a Greek goat god. He's related to satyrs who inspire lustful orgies to distract people long enough for the satyrs to eat them. Problem is, Miralda wanted the orgies but not the death, so she changed the runes. I could end this if she'd used standard markings, but she didn't so I have to reverse engineer her magic from the originals." You said, quickly.

"Okay. How long do you think that'll take?" His voice was strained, telling you that he was being affected again, too.

"I don't know. Longer if I keep having to stop and deal with the..." You moaned as images from the pantry flashed in your mind. "...fantasies and hormones. We can't talk, anymore. Hopefully, I'll have a solution by the time you get back, but until then..."

"What, you're not interested in phone sex?"

"Dean, don't joke. This is serious."

"Shit, so am I. Just listening to your voice..." He moaned into the receiver.

_*Be strong.*_ "I know, jackass, but it'll be difficult to explain to Sam why you're jacking off while on  _his_ phone with me, you idiot. Go deal with your shit by your lonesome." You responded, turning the phone off and setting on the table in front of you. Phone sex was actually a pretty phenomenal idea. Something you'd never done before, but you couldn't fuck it up when you're both so fucking lustful after one another.

You kept looking over the books, but your brain and body refused to stop thinking about Dean. Picking up your phone, you dialed Dean's number. Part of you hoped he wouldn't answer, but on the second ring, it clicked. "You make a breakthrough since you hung up on me?" He whispered.

A new rush of heat went through your body at the sound of his voice and the image of him lying across the front seat of the Impala with Sam lying asleep in the back. "No." You admitted. "Couldn't think. I read this same page of Greek stuff, like, 5 times."

"Been tryin' to sleep for an hour. Sammy's lucky ass has been out almost since he got back to the damn car." There was silence for a few moments.

"Have you..." You swallowed. "Have you tried to take care of it yourself?"

"You mean, have I jacked off with my bother asleep two feet away?" He whispered, annoyed.

"A 'no' would've sufficed."

"Of course, I did." He finished in a growl. "It didn't work. Nothing works, except you. The only time I feel any relief is when I'm inside you."

"Do you think..." You took a deep breath. "...do you think phone sex would _work_? Listening to each other's voice is enough to rev our engines, do you think it'd be good enough to..."

"It's worth a try." He sighed, deeply. "Get undressed."

"I haven't done this before." You whispered, putting your phone on speaker and standing, placing it on the table. You pulled your tank top and bra over your head, then pulled your shorts and underwear down and sat back into the wooden chair.

"Yeah. 'less you count 900 numbers, I haven't either. Just... your voice is enough, mostly. You naked?" He asked in a low whisper.

"Yes. Completely."

"Put your left hand on your breast. Get your nipple nice and hard for me." You did as you were told, running the fingertips of your hand over one nipple, then the other. "I'm gonna need you to respond, y/n, or this ain't gonna do _anything_ for me."

"Sorry, Dean. I just..." You moaned, grasping at your breast. "I'm so exhausted of being horny all the time. I want this to be over."

"Then put your fingers in your pussy and tell me how it feels so we can get on with this." He demanded.

You moaned, the coil of heat inside you tightening, as you dropped your hand to your pussy and ran your fingers between your lips. You put your right leg up on the table and pushed two fingers easily inside you. You immediately started a fast pace, rubbing your clit with the heel of your palm. You moaned, breathlessly. "It doesn't feel as good as you. I can't get the angles that you can. Can't get as deep as you."

"Yeah? How much better is my cock than your fingers?"

"So much better. Your cock is the best thing I've ever had inside of me."

"And your cunt is the tightest, wettest, tastiest..." He groaned. He was panting into the phone, but you were moaning too loud to hear it. You were almost there. It hadn't taken much. "God, I love the way you sound. I swear, I'd love to hear you gagging on my dick. If we figure out this thing before I get to fuck your mouth, I'm gonna be sorely disappointed. Ugh. Fu-"

You fell over the precipice of your orgasm and whimpered as you reached forward and shut off the call. Your mind cleared as your body slowly stopped tingling. You sighed in relief as you started to redress. Time to get back to work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn't sleep. Not intentionally, anyway. You woke up, slumped over in one of those uncomfortable wooden library chairs. Your body hurt, partly from the rough treatment it'd been receiving over the last couple days and partly from the way you'd slept. You grabbed your phone as you stood and started to stretch your sore muscles. You had several unread texts on your phone, which you opened as you shuffled toward the kitchen.

**Dean: So glad that worked**

**Dean: Not happy about you continuously hanging up on me, tho**

**Sam: Hey. How are you feeling?**

**Sam: I know the silence can be deafening in the bunker alone. Call me if you need someone to talk to.**

**Sam: Are you and Dean having problems? Seems like there's some tension between you.**

**Dean: I think Sammy's getting suspicious. Keeps asking why im having issues with you**

You sat at the table and picked up a coffee cup that sat cold on the table. You growled under your breath and rolled your eyes, before opening up a draft to Dean.

**y/n: What do I say to him? He asked if we're having problems, noticed the tension.**

You took a drink of the cold coffee and shivered in disgust. You stood, putting the cup in the microwave. Your phone buzzed as the microwave beeped.

**Dean: Not the truth. Tell him that I was a dick about something and you're upset about it. How you feelin, tho?**

**y/n: I'm okay. Texting doesn't seem to affect me. Anyway, I was up pretty much all night and I think I might have it figured out. When you get back, we need to get rid of Sam for about 6 hours so that we can do the ritual to reverse the curse.**

You grabbed a bag of chips from the counter and dropped into the chair at the table.

**Dean: UR amazing. Told ya you didn't need a witch consult with Rowena.**

You smirked and sighed, dialing out to Sam. "Hey."

"Hey, y/n. How's the bunker?"

"It's fine. I'm not missing you guys, at all. You guys could stay gone as long as you want." You joked.

"Well, that's not very nice. 'Cause I'm missing you, even if Dean's not."

"Dean's a dick but he'll warm up to me, eventually."

"You guys okay?"

You sighed. "We will be. It's not a big deal."

"All right. Listen, we've gotta go talk to the vic at the hospital. I'll call you before we bed down tonight."

You smiled, taken again by how sweet he is. "Okay. Good luck, Sam. Talk to you later."


	4. Did It Work?

You set up the ritual in one of the empty bedrooms. You pushed the bed into the far corner and pulled the mattress onto the floor. It was going to be another night of tantric exhaustion, but if you could get through it, everything would go back to normal. You relished the opportunity to be mostly okay and by yourself for a few days. You refused to call Dean, even though part of you really wanted to and you weren't sure exactly why. You worked on your magic and relaxed in your room with some Netflix. Sam called after 3 days to say they were on their way back, and Dean texted you to ask if the ritual was ready. You sent him a picture of the room, then set to getting yourself ready for facing the man.

You were in the library when Sam and Dean got back. As soon as your eyes landed on Dean, heat flushed through your system. His jaw ticked as he looked ahead, radiating anger to hide his true motives from his brother. "I'ma hit the sack." He grunted.

"Don't mind him. He's just grumpy 'cause he's tired. _I'm_ fully rested, though. Movie night?" Sam's smile was sweet and though you wanted to beg forgiveness and feign exhaustion to go meet with Dean, who you were sure was in your room by now, you simply nodded.

"I ate all the popcorn." You managed to say as you walked down the hallway with Sam.

"That's okay. We'll just focus on the movie." Sam opened his door and you walked in, flopping onto the bed as he pulled up Netflix.

Except you couldn't focus on the movie. You'd seen it before and it was slow to start and the heat between your legs wasn't going away, no matter how hard you pressed your thighs together. You found yourself sneaking looks at Sam, wondering if the Winchester you were in bed with could take care of you as well as the one waiting for you in your room. "Dammit." You whispered, sitting up. "Sam."

"Yeah?"

"I really want you to see this movie, but I can't lie here in bed with you and pretend I'm not dying to fuck you." You were a little surprised at the words, as you hadn't intended to be that forward when you started the sentence.

"Really?"

"'Netflix and Chill' generally ends in sex, where I come from, Sam, and I'd like to skip to the end, okay?"

"Are you okay, y/n?"

"I'm horny, Sam. Am I being too aggressive?" You asked, suddenly aware of your hands grabbing his flannel shirt.

He chuckled. "No, I like it. It's just sudden. Are you sure about this?"

"Definitely." _*It's him. Sam's my soulmate. Maybe this will satisfy me. Maybe it doesn't have to be Dean. Maybe...*_

Sam cut off your thoughts by smashing his lips into yours. You pushed his shirt down his arms and started to pull your shirt off. When you pulled away to get the cloth over your head, Sam took the opportunity to pull his own shirt off, then pushed you onto your back and started to lick and bite at your neck. You moaned, loudly, as Sam kissed his way down your body, taking time with each of your nipples before flicking open the button on your jeans and slowly pulling them down your legs. "Sam." You whined his name, but he didn't change tactics or speed up. He knew you were drowning in heat, but he wasn't going to throw a life preserver any time soon. You moved to rub yourself through your panties, but he swatted your hand away.

"Patience is a virtue, or so I'm told." He smiled up at you as he dropped your jeans beside his bed and placed himself between your thighs. You shuddered as he ran his tongue up your slit through the cotton covering.

"Sam, please. Stop teasing me. Please. I can't..." He just chuckled, ignoring your pleas. "God dammit, Sam. Just fuck me, already!" You ordered, angrily, your desperation burning in your chest. Sam's eyes flashed gold, but you didn't have time to be concerned with that because he ripped your underwear from your body and quickly pulled his jeans down enough for his cock to spring free. He lined up and slammed his hips forward in one decisive motion and began a quick piston motion with his hips.

"The hell happened?" He murmured into your neck as he held onto you and fuck you into the mattress. "Wanted to take my time. First time."

You didn't respond, moaning like a porn star. What had Dean called it? Brazzers-worthy. _*Oh, Goddess, don't think about Dean! Think about Sam. Sam, with the puppy eyes and the fluffy hair and the giant cock. Just as big as Dean's. Oh, what if they both had me? Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck you, Miralda. Fuck you, Pan. Fuck you, Life. Fuck-*_

"You okay? You stopped moaning." Sam whispered, breathlessly.

"Sorry. I... Sam, did I _make_ you stop teasing and get to the main event?"

"I don't know." Sam answered, kissing your neck. "I wouldn't feel guilty, if you did. I wanted this."

"I know you did. But if I can do that- fuck, right there!"

"Don't worry about going dark side. Me and Dean will keep you grounded."

"But free will is... is so..." Your train of thought derailed as he grabbed your legs and pushed your knees up, changing the angle he was entering you. "Oh, fuck, Sam, that's so good."

"That's all I wanna hear outta you, y/n. We'll talk about the other thing later, okay?"

You nodded and looked into his eyes, biting your lip as he ran his fingers through your hair and kept up the pace. His rhythm faltered as he got close to his orgasm and he pulled out, simultaneously stroking himself and rubbing his thumb roughly across your clit. You came with a scream as streams of his semen shot out and covered your chest and stomach. He dropped to the bed and put his hands behind his head. "Mundus." You said, and your body was suddenly clean of his spendings. 

"Hey. You okay?" Sam asked, putting his hand on your thigh.

"Yeah. Uh, just... somnus." You whispered. His eyes immediately drifted closed and he was sleeping within seconds. You gathered your clothes and headed for your room.

"Did it work?" Dean's voice was strained as you opened the door. 

You threw your clothes at your hamper and turned the light on. You hadn't bothered to redress because it hadn't worked. "What do _you_ think?" You slammed the door closed and looked at your bed. Dean's hand was fisted around his cock, furiously pumping it as he looked at you. You stalked to your bed, angrily, jumping on it.

"I'm really not feeling the sloppy-seconds vibe, woman." Dean growled as he grabbed you and rolled on top of you, entering you easily.

"Can't blame a girl for tryin', Dean." You moaned as he took a hard, angry pace. "Fuck, Dean. I'm sorry. I thou- oh, fuck. Shouldn't have-"

"Shouldn't have left me waiting with my dick in my hand? Shouldn't have made me listen to your moans while my brother went to town on you?" It didn't seem possible but he snapped his hips forward harder. "He gonna hear you moaning for _me_?"

"I- fuck. Sleep spell." 

"Good." He grunted, burying his face in the crook of your neck and grabbing at your thighs. He pulled back and sat up, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling your head down toward his lap. You opened your mouth eagerly and wrapped your lips around his length as he started to fuck your face. Between the gagging noises and the sounds of his gasping moans, was the sound of your own moans. When he came, long stripes of salty semen hit the back of your throat and he groaned, pulling back and dropping to the bed. "I knew you'd be good at that. God!"

You swallowed and wiped your hand across your lips. "You're not done." You said, climbing on top of him and sinking down onto his dick. "Fuck."

Dean grabbed your hips and started to fuck up into you, slamming you down onto him. "You stupid... witch... bitch. Shoulda come earlier. We could... be cured... by now." He grunted.

You ground yourself down against him and grabbed his hair, smashing your mouth against his. "We'd still be fucking."

"We'd be halfway through..." Dean bit your lip and dug his short fingernails into your hips. "...the stupid ritual by... hnn, by now."

You couldn't argue, because he was right... and he was hitting your g-spot. You tugged at his hair and moaned, loudly with each thrust. "Dean! God, yes! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"You better cum soon, you little whore, so we can go start the ritual and get this shit over with." Dean growled at you. Usually, being spoken to that way wouldn't have a good effect on you, but the darkness in his voice sent a chill up your spine, your orgasm rolled over you and you cried out as your walls clutched at him. He kissed you, roughly, again as his dick twitched inside of you. "That's a good girl." He whispered, pulling out of you. 

Your brain cleared a little, just a little, as he stood and walked toward the door. He was semi-flaccid. "You... did you cum in me?" You asked, wiping between your legs.

"We'll get you a morning-after pill tomorrow. Come on! Where'd you set up the ritual?"

"Two rooms to the right. Hey! I _told_ you condoms."

Dean grabbed you and pushed you, harshly, into the door of the room you'd set up the ritual in. "And I told _you_ that the more time I spend with my dick inside you, the less control I got. I don't have the self-control to roll a rubber on. I need to feel every damn inch of your tight little pussy, and I need to feel it again, now. So, get in the fuckin' room." 

You twisted the doorknob and stumbled backward into the room, tripping over a candle and falling to the mattress. Dean was on you in a second, pushing your knees into your chest as he entered you again. "Fuck, Dean. Sigi-ah! W-we need the... It won't work with..."

"Can you draw 'em while I drill you?" He grunted out.

"Maybe, but I need blood... was gonna... knife."

Dean grabbed your wrist and yanked your left arm up to his mouth, biting into your forearm until he tasted blood. You hissed at him, pain radiating up your arm. It was obscured by the pleasure roiling through your body. "God, even your blood tastes good." You dipped your fingers into the blood and began to draw on Dean's forehead. "Need me to draw yours?" He asked, breathlessly.

"Yeah. Yeah, go ahead." You reached out and grabbed the paper next to the mattress and shoved it in his face. He grabbed it slammed it into mattress next to your head. He swiped his fingers through the dripping blood on your arm and stilled his hips slightly, to draw the sigil on your forehead. The sigils both flashed white, then disappeared. He licked his fingers clean and started to move his hips again. "Oh, god. Dean, god." 

He moved slowly this time, calming since the sigil activated. He licked at your neck and pulled your earlobe between his teeth. "How long we gotta make this last, sweetheart?" He whispered.

"Five... f-five hours. Thank you, fo-for slowing down. I couldn't take five hours of pounding like you gave me in my room."

"I'm pretty sure it's already workin'. I mean, you still feel amazing, but... I feel more in control."

"Enough to stop and wrap your shit up?" 

"Well, you're already full of my spunk, so what would be the point? Feels better for both of us without a condom, right?"

You moaned in agreement. Bareback felt better than anything. It was two hours later, ramping up to your fourth orgasm, when you heard a door slam somewhere in the bunker. "Shit! Was that Sam?"

Dean buried his head in the crook of your neck and groaned. "He must've heard us. He must be so pissed." His pace stuttered as he spoke and you could tell he was warring between chasing after his little brother to explain and continuing to follow the imperative Miralda cursed you both with. 

"We have to finish. Dean, if you stop, we'll have to start _all_ over again. I can't take another day of this constant heat."

"Gonna start chafing soon." He licked at your jaw and sighed into your ear. "Your sleep spell didn't last long enough."

"Never done one before. It's not my fault."

"Yeah, yeah. How we gonna fix it?"

"We finish, then we call Sam and explain... like we should've done the first time."

"Hey, I was trying to avoid this _exact_ situation. Sorry for trying to- oh, whatever." He pulled out and flipped you over, pushing your ass up into the air and reentering you from behind. "Better not have to die for him to forgive this."

"Think he's probably gonna be more upset at me."

"Yeah, you are the one who went from one bed to the other." He grabbed your hair and used it for leverage. "It's not like I could say 'no', right?"

"And _I_ can? You're the reason we're in this mess." You complained, digging your fingers into the mattress as he drilled into you.

"Am I? How the fuck is this _my_ fault?"

"You couldn't save Sam without me? If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have gone into that damn club."

"It's not my fault that place was marked up with satyr sigils. You know... just shut up." He growled, letting go of your hair to cover your mouth with his hand. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You cleaned the room with magic, but after 5 hours and... really, a week of feeling sweaty and sex-stained, you insisted on a shower to clean yourself. Your hair was still dripping wet as you sat on one of the tables in the library, your phone on speaker in your lap as you called Sam for the fifth time. "Sam, please, answer the phone. I should have told you about the curse. We're idiots. I'm... I'm an idiot. I know that, but it's... it's not a big... Dean still hates me. He was... witch-hating through this entire ordeal, like it was _my_ fault what Miralda did to us, but... Sam... I'm sorry. Come back, or at least answer the damn phone. Let me explain. I mean, I know I explained in the last few calls, but... Sam, it's not him. It's not Dean. It's you. I wouldn't be surprised if Dean never looked at me again after this and I'd be okay with that as long as I've got you, still. Sam, please." You sighed heavily as you moved to press the red button on your phone screen. "I'm so sorry."

"Any luck?" Dean asked, walking in wrapped in a robe. You shook your head, sadly. "He'll come back. He didn't take anything except my damn keys, so..." Dean pulled his phone from the pocket of the robe and started to type out a text. "I don't hate you, you know. I got no problems with you, anymore. I didn't _really_ have much against you in the first place. Just don't like witches... generally. You're the only one that's really... worth anything." 

"Please." You rolled your eyes and hopped down from the table. "All that shit you were talkin' earlier? Callin' me a 'stupid witch bitch' and a 'whore'?" You rubbed at your left forearm, wrapped in gauze bandaging. "And biting me?"

"Hey, you didn't hate it." Dean shrugged. "We got carried away. We were... in the moment." 

" _You_ got carried away." You sighed, heading toward the kitchen. 

"Yeah, all right. You hungry?" He followed you and walked to the fridge. "Look, it'll probably be better for all of us if I... if I act like I hate you. At least while we're around Sammy." 

"That's just more lies, Dean. Part of the reason why he's so upset is because we didn't tell him about the curse when it first happened. We shouldn't put on a show for him."

"Really? 'Cause, you know, I've known that kid his whole life and I am positive that, if I treat you with anything less than complete contempt, he's gonna assume I still want you on my dick."

"You _do_." You assured, pulling a beer out of the fridge and twisting the top off. 

"Oh, you just know that, huh?"

"You wanted me before Miralda's club... and I know you didn't get tired of me over the last week. Look, we should just be honest with Sam." You tossed the bottle cap on the counter and took a swig of beer.

"Yeah, that'd probably be a good fucking idea." Sam's voice rang out across the kitchen, causing you to jump and Dean to look at his feet.

"Didn't hear you come in." Dean muttered.

"You have one shot, one chance, to explain _exactly_ what I don't know."

You stepped forward. "You didn't listen to the voicemails I left you?"

Sam shook his head. "I couldn't. Left my phone here. Now... who wants to talk?"

You swallowed. "We were cursed." Sam scoffed, but you shook your head. "Please, listen. Miralda's club, remember how all the people upstairs were, like, especially raunchy?"

"There were sigils on the outside of the building. Go in the front and they get activated. y/n and I went in together so we got hit together. You lucked out because Miralda took you in through the back, you didn't get hit with her satyr whammy." Dean shut the fridge and looked at his little brother. "It hit almost immediately. Just wanted to touch her, kiss her... screw her. So, I did. It wasn't something I... could stop, and I tried."

"We thought it would go away after we got rid of her, but it followed us home. What you... what you heard... it was the ritual to end it." 

"And earlier, that was just your horniness for him spilling over onto me?" Sam asked, his jaw tight.

"No! I mean... it might have been a little to do with it, but... I've wanted you since before Indiana. Since..." You sighed. "Doesn't matter. We should have told you when we figured out why we went crazy over each other at the club. We should have told you when we realized that it wasn't going away. I'm sorry. We're sorry."

"So, this is why you guys have been having trouble with each other?"

"We were _tryin_ ' to keep our hands off each other long enough to figure out how to fix it." Dean answered. "Look, Sam, I-"

"Dean, don't." Sam took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a minute and then opening them. "You should have told me." 

"I know. I just..." Dean licked his lips and shook his head, slightly. "I know how much you want her and... even knowing that it was a hex and I couldn't stop myself, I felt like I was stealing something from you."

"She doesn't belong to me, Dean." Sam set Dean's keys on the metal island counter and leaned against it. "I knew you wanted her, too, Dean. I'm not stupid enough to fall for that overcompensating bullshit."

The elder brother sighed and reached over the counter to pluck the beer out of your hand. "If she's got a soulmate, Sam, it should be you. I was trying to not get in the way." He took a drag from the bottle and set it on the counter, his hand still closed around it. 

"That's not how soulmates work. And I... I don't know... Maybe it's not either of you. Maybe it's both. I should have done another spell to figure it out for sure, but honestly, I don't think I wanted to know."

"What do you mean, 'maybe it's both'? Soulmates are kinda... Limited occupancy." Dean turned his gaze from his little brother to you.

"Well, I'm like 80% sure that you guys are twin souls, which is  _super_ rare, but kinda seems like you guys are experts in beating the odds on shit like this."

"Wait. What?" Sam asked, his eyebrows scrunching together.

"Twin souls." You sighed and raised your hand beside your head and have a twirl of your fingers. A book, one of the ancient texts you'd rifled through when you got tired of magic studies, appeared in your left hand. It was open to a passage labeled 'twin souls'. "Super rare. Most  _actual_ twins don't even have twin souls, but the people who have them are usually siblings who have been bonded through destiny and/or extremely difficult lives. They are instinctively loyal to each other, sacrifice without considering the consequences, oh, and they share a Heaven." You looked up from the book to smile at their stunned faces. "So, that's something to look forward to; an eternity in Heaven together."

Sam looked around the room, processing everything, while Dean took another drink of your beer. "So, if we  _are_ twin souls, that means you could-" Sam trailed off, still lost in thought.

"You're a conjurer, now?" Dean indicated the book with the beer bottle.

"Oh." You looked down at the book. "I guess so." 

"Dean, did you hear what she said?"

"Yeah." Dean set the beer down and started toward the door.

"That means-"

"What, just 'cause we share a freakin' Heaven, we're supposed to share _her_?" Dean snapped. "Nah. She's yours. Let it go."

You slammed the book on the counter and looked over at the Winchesters, whose eyes snapped to yours. "I don't belong to anyone. And I'm not gonna be the reason you two are fighting. So, you two can get your shit together and deal with this, or I can leave."

"What? You can't le-" Sam started, the color draining from his face.

"I can do whatever the hell I want. I've got a good handle on this magic shit, obviously." You pointed to the book, which disappeared into thin air. "You dumbasses are not gonna-"

"You can't leave because you'll end up going dark!" Sam insisted. 

"What are you talking about? She hasn't done anything-" Dean tried to defend you, but Sam shook his head.

"She fucked with my free will earlier!"

"That wasn't on purpose!" You shouted.

"Because you don't have control of your shit, yet!" Sam shouted back.

"Oh, fuck you! I was under the influence of a sex spell and you were teasing me. I couldn't control that!"

"But you could control _me_ and that's scary as hell."

"Wait, what am I missing here?" 

You and Sam glared at each other for a moment before you looked away. "He was teasing me. I was... _desperate_. I told him to stop and just fuck me and... and he did. I _made_ him. I  _lost_ control because of Miralda's spell. That's not the same thing as not having any control now."

"Oh, please! You're just a stupid, slutty, little bitch who doesn't know how to deal with the power you've been given! We should just send you back to the world you came from so that you can't hurt anybody." Sam shouted, leaning over you, intimidatingly.

"Back off!" You demanded. Sam's eyes flashed gold and he took two steps backwards. You swallowed and took a deep breath. "I didn't mean to- you shouldn't get in my face like that."

"What happened to the Rede, huh?" Sam ran his hand down his face. "I didn't mean what I said. You aren't any of that. I just need you to understand that you don't have control over your power."

"Well, I would if I didn't have you screaming in my face."

"So, what, every time someone does something you don't like, you're gonna _make_ them stop?" Dean chimed in from the doorway. "Thought messing with peoples' freedom of choice was a big no-no with White witches?"

"It-it is, but... You don't understand. I-"

"You have to stay. You're too powerful and if you go Kilgrave, we'll have to..." Sam looked down. 

You understood his reference to the Jessica Jones villain and looked down, leaning against the island. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to Kilgrave you. I just... guess I don't have as much control as I thought. Look, here's... I'm gonna go to my room. You guys... come get me when you get your shit straight." You pushed away from the island and passed between the brothers, who both moved so that they wouldn't touch you and then stared after you as you walked toward your room.

You sat on your bed, legs folded under you. You didn't know what to do. Leaving again, that was what felt safest, but... of course you couldn't go out into the world without having control of your powers. You couldn't risk hurting someone or getting them into trouble because you told them to do something. You were lying on the bed, several hours later, considering opening a portal and going back to your own dimension when a knock came to your door. You sighed and sat up, hugging your pillow to your chest. "Yeah?" 

"Can we come in?" Sam's voice came through the door.

"Yeah." You scooted back toward the headboard as your door opened and Dean and Sam walked in.

"So... we, uh, we know that... we've got some shit to work out." Dean started. " _Still_." 

"And we know that it's not fair to keep you here when you... you probably need some space. Between what happened with Dean and what happened with me and the whole thing with the soulmates and the crazy circumstances around you being here..."

"We called our friend, Cas. He's gonna come get you and you can help him track this woman he's lookin' for, Kelly. She's carryin' the Devil's baby. We kinda need to find her before she gives birth, you know?" Dean said, looking at his feet.

You let out a shaky breath. "You're... sending me away?" You chuckled to keep yourself from crying about it. "You tracked me down when I was with Rowena, you provoked me earlier so that I wouldn't leave and now, you're sending me away."

"You'll be with Cas. He's an angel and he's... he's..." Dean floundered. 

"We won't worry about you if you're with Castiel. We'll be able to deal with our issues and then... you could come back?"

You shook your head, dropping the pillow to the side of the bed and moving to slide yourself off. "When will he be here?"

"Couple hours. He, uh, can't fly anymore, so he's gotta drive." Sam answered. 

"Good. Well, that'll give me time to get my shit together." You nodded at them, then pointed at your door. "Thanks for tellin' me... and everything else, I guess."

"Look, you'll be back." Dean assured.

"Yeah. Of course, I will." You were certain you weren't going to be back. Who would confront their personal issues when they had world-ending problems to deal with? Like Lucifer and... whoever got pregnant by him... oh, and their mom and the Men of Letters and... much bigger issues than soulmates and sex curses and the aftermath of both. As they walked out, you set a duffel bag on the bed and levitated as much of your stuff into it as possible. By the time the angel showed up, you were completely packed and you got into his car without a word to the Winchesters. 

"It's nice to meet you, y/n. Dean and Sam have told me all about you." Castiel said as he pulled the car away from the bunker.

"That's neat. Nice to meet you, too." You tried to smile at him, but your lips wouldn't cooperate, turning down into a deep frown as you watched the bunker grow smaller in the side mirror.


	5. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon-divergence from season 13, here. Keeping some elements of 13 but changing some.

Castiel didn't talk much, and you were okay with that. His silence gave you the time required to fully explore the space your head was in. It changed from day to day. Some days you understood, completely, why the Winchesters sent you away. Some days you wanted to fight them over it, because anger was better than the sadness and loss that filled your heart on the other days... most other days.

You weren't helping much finding Kelly Kline and Castiel wasn't doing too well at it, either, but neither of you were talking about that, or anything really. The angel seemed nice, though, and he respected the boundaries that you weren't aware you'd set. He never mentioned the brothers and made it a rule that he didn't answer their calls around you. He stopped for gas on a half a tank more than once just to have an excuse to get out of the car and pull his phone while he pumped.

On your sad days, he played your favorite album over the car's stereo and made sure to get a motel early so that you could shower and rest. It was days like that when you didn't consider going home, but on your 'understanding' days it seemed like the only viable option.

You were certain you were in love with them, and you'd never truly be satisfied with just one or the other but you couldn't ask them to be with you like that. Someone always gets jealous, eventually. Polyamory was a flawed concept and sure, some people could make it work, you'd been a witch long enough to meet people with open relationships and husbands and wives who shared girlfriends so it wasn't completely crazy, it was something some people could manage but definitely not the ' _Sister Wives_ ' family and gods, what happened to TLC?

Castiel interrupted your inner tangent with a sharp clearing of his throat. His phone was in his hand and you could see his texting app up. "Sam and Dean need my assistance." He said, simply.

"And you want me to stay here? Or should I continue to not be trusted by myself? 'cause really, Castiel, I'm a big girl. I'm capable of taking care of myself."

"You don't think that's why you're with me, do you? They know you're capable. I think the fear is that you're  _over_ capable."

"Whatever, Castiel. I can take care of myself for a couple days while you run off to give back-up. Go."

You only waited a few hours before leaving the motel and catching a cab to the nearest dive bar. You were on your second Crown with a Tito's chaser when a thin brunette man in a dark blue suit sat down on the stool next to you. "Well, drinking like that, you're either celebrating or mourning." He said, in a posh British accent.

"Recruitment or reconnaissance?" You asked, not turning to look at him, your vision focused on the scuffed wooden bar-top.

"I'm sorry?"

"British Men of Letters, right? You here to recruit me, or are you just tryin' to pick up more info on someone you're afraid might end up your Monster of the Week in the future?"

The man scoffed, obviously surprised that you'd figured him out so quickly without even looking at him. "Bit of both, actually."

"Honesty. I like that." You turned to him. "You buy my next round, I'll talk to you."

"Splendid." He raised his hand to let the bartender know that he wanted another round and smiled at you. "Mick Davies." He greeted with a smile.

You nodded. "Yeah. I figured. Your name might've been cursed in front of me once or twice. Y/n Y/l/n."

"Yes, I know. We were able to get your name from one of our assets, but came up empty against all of our databases. We were planning to file you away to be dealt with later, but you keep popping up with people of interest. The Winchesters, Rowena Macleod, the demon Crowley, the angel Castiel... thought it may be time to find out who you are."

"Yeah. I'm not gonna be in your databases. I'm not from around here." You said, downing the rest of the vodka in front of you.

"Oh, you're not from America? That would explain part-"

"No, I'm from America. I'm just not from  _this_  America. I'm from another dimension." You said, nonchalantly.

The Brit's eyes grew huge. "Another dimension? How'd you get here?"

You shrugged. "I'm a witch. Did a spell, it backfired. Voila!" You picked up the new glass of whisky and took a drink, wondering when you'd decided the spell had backfired. You guessed if backfire is defined as 'something that was meant to help and brought confusion and pain' it most definitely  _was_  a backfire.

"I've only ever heard of powerful celestial beings moving between worlds. Angels and the like."

"That's right."

"You're sayin' you're as powerful as an angel?"

"I'm saying I don't know how powerful I am." You said, shrugging. "Now you see why all the heavy hitters wanna keep me close?"

"Wait." His eyes shined with sudden understanding. "That dimensional disturbance a few months back, that was-"

You raised your hand off the bar. "Yup. That's me."

"That was literally off the charts! We couldn't even measure the power came through! We've been trying to figure out-" You just shrugged again. This didn't excite you anymore. "With all that power, it should be easy to get you home, right? Why haven't you fixed this?"

"Haven't tried to... yet." You finished quietly.

"Why ever not?"

You chuckled. "I don't expect you to understand this, Mr. Davies, but I don't really have anything where I come from. I had an unfulfilling job, a terrible relationship with my family, and no real friends."

Mick smiled tightly and looked down at the beer you hadn't noticed he had in front of him. "I understand not having anyone, y/n, better than you'd think."

"Then you understand the enticement here." You gestured widely around you. "A brand new start. A whole new world, where everyone's... actor beautiful and well-written." You chuckled. "I thought I could make a real life here, learn how to be a real witch, do some real good, maybe find real love and build a new family here. But that's not happening." You took a drink of your whisky and thought about everything you wanted and considered going back once more. It's not like you'd miss the witchcraft, right? You hadn't done any magic since you'd been with Castiel.

"So, are you  _planning_  to go back?"

"Don't really have much in the way of plans, Mick. But what's keeping me  _here_ , right? The only improvement I have from being in this dimension over my own is that my dimension doesn't have magic."

"Really?" Mick leaned forward, very interested.

"Yep. No magic, no monsters, no Heaven or Hell. I had just enough juice on that side to get me here and that was pretty much it. I was so happy to be here, Mick, you don't even know." You shook your head. "I don't think I'm meant for happy, though. Think that's what the gods are telling me, here, is I'm not supposed to have good things."

"Well, I can't speak to that, but... if you do decide to stay, the Men of Letters would be glad to have you doing good under our direction." He set a business card on the bar and slid it in front of you.

You giggled at that. "You'd lock me up somewhere. Organizations like yours..." You picked up the card with the Men of Letters logo on it. "You recognize the need for a person with power, but you're smart enough to recognize that you might have an issue of power dynamics if ever I decide I don't want to follow orders. I could easily fight back against you if you tried to force me to do some mission I didn't want to do, because I'm powerful here, so you'd have to find some way to control me. Mind control, maybe, I don't know what you've got at your disposal over there at Hydra. Either way, I'd end up in a cell somewhere until you needed me and I'm not looking forward to that."

"We're not evil, y/n. We just want to rid the world of monsters."

"And Hydra just wanted to kill a couple hundred thousand people to control the fate of 7 billion." You wondered momentarily if the man even knew what you were talking about.

"And SHIELD was perfectly fine with that until they realized they'd be killing people they

liked." That answered that. Mick smiled. "Look, I don't know how to... I can't  _promise_  you that you wouldn't be subject to control measures, but we'd be able to teach you to focus yourself and we'd help you do good in this dimension. Just give it a thought, okay?"

You tucked the card into your back pocket and nodded at him. "I'll give it thought." You promised, but you knew you wouldn't. You were drunk enough to make the decision you'd been avoiding since Castiel picked you up from the bunker. You were going home.

You wrote a sloppy drunken goodbye note explaining where you'd gone and why. It was addressed to Castiel because explaining to Sam and Dean that you were too in love with them to come into their lives and fuck everything up for the sake of something so stupid as true love was ridiculous. You explained that you had been nothing except a distraction when you were with the brothers and nothing but a burden on Castiel. You thanked them for everything they'd ever done for you, all of them, and left the note against the mirror with your burn phone. You gave a look around the room, then closed your eyes and concentrated on going home.

When you opened your eyes, there was a shining white and orange sliver of light in the middle of the room. You took a deep breath and stepped through. You were in a room similar to the one you'd just left but you could feel, in your bones, that you were back in the dimension with no magic.

You tried a few spells before leaving the motel room. They worked, but only barely. Your sun was more like a low-wattage flashlight with bad batteries and when you levitated the notepad next to the phone, it only moved a few inches. Home sweet home, where there's more magic in the pickpockets than the witches.

You took a cab to an internet cafe and Googled yourself. Your disappearance had baffled your hometown. There was no sign of a struggle and nothing had been taken. Your parents had sent out a plea for you to come home. They'd said they were certain you'd run away, that you weren't the target of some murderer or kidnapper or sex trafficker because you were plain and kept to yourself and there wasn't much chance of you making anyone pay attention to you. You felt a bit disgusted reading their words, but it just solidified your choice. You might be back in your old dimension but you weren't going back to your old life.

You set up in Southern Oregon, a little town in the mountains that mostly catered to the ski tourists. You were waitressing in the local seafood restaurant for a while, smiling for tips at the rich patrons spending their extended vacations on the mountain, but it didn't take long for the owner to promote you to Front of House Manager. The money was good, the environment was healthy and the people were supportive. You made friends and even caught the eye of one of the line cooks, José, who took you out on a few dates before you let him take you to bed.

Your life was better than it ever would have been if you'd stayed home and probably as good as it would ever be, but at night you dreamed of the world you left behind. You dreamed of magic and monsters, witches and demons, angels and, most importantly, of hunters. You dreamed of Sam and Dean every night.

"Buenos días, hermosa señorita." José greeted, hugging you close to him as your eyes fluttered open. 

"Oh." You let out a small breath and moved to sit up. "Sorry. I didn't realize I fell asleep here last night, José."

"I don't mind, y/n. I've told you before." The brown-eyed man smiled at you from his side of the bed as you swung your legs over the side of the mattress and reached down to pick your clothes up off of the floor.

"I know. It's just that none of my stuff is here, you know, so it makes it hard for me to get-"

"Well, maybe you bring some of your stuff over. I don't like you smelling like my deodorant any more than you do, y/n, so you could buy some of yours and-"

You shook your head, pulling your pants and underwear up your legs. "José, we've talked about this."

"We've been dating for almost two months, bruja. You've spent every night here since two weeks ago. Why do you have to go back to your place every night when you could stay here sometimes?"

You stood and turned to him, a soft look in your eyes as you smiled at him. He was trying so hard. José really liked you and really wanted you to open up to him, but you weren't sure how to be open with someone when there was a big chunk of life that you couldn't be honest about. "I ever tell you that I love when you call me 'bruja'? It's so easy to forget that I'm a witch, you know." You joked.

"A powerful sorceress, put me under your spell." He confirmed, leaning across the bed to grab your hand. "You should stay the night more often, y/n. It was nice to sleep with you in my arms."

You leaned down and kissed him, softly. "You're right. It was nice. I'll try to allow myself to sleep in your arms more often." You pulled back and grabbed your shoes from the rack next to the door. "I'll see you at work, José."

You grabbed your purse, pulled your keys from the front pocket and headed out to the parking lot. You dropped everything in your hands on the concrete when your eyes fell on your car and the two men leaning against it, looking at their boots.

"He's handsome... and this is a nice place..." Dean started, still not looking up. "Good town, nice people. Almost didn't want to interrupt you."

"It took us this long to figure a way back here to find you and we almost went back without even talking to you." Sam said. He looked up and caught your eyes. "You look happy here, so we almost-"

"Why are you-" You took a steadying breath and knelt down to pick up your purse and keys. " _How_  are you here?"

"It's a long story. Can we go somewhere private to talk?" Sam asked.

You straightened and nodded, aiming your keys at your car and hitting the unlock button. "I was about to head home, anyway, so..." There was a huge knot in your stomach and you couldn't get past it no matter how you tried as you pulled open your door and got into your sedan. Dean took the backseat and Sam got in on your passenger side.

"So... what's his name?" Dean asked.

"Dean." Sam warned, quietly.

"I just wanna know the guy's name, Sam."

"That's not why we're here, Dean."

"José." You answered. "His name's José Castillo." There was silence in the car as you drove toward your own apartment. You pulled into your parking spot, got out and headed into your apartment, the Winchesters following closely behind. "You guys want some coffee?"

"Really?!" Dean exploded at the inquiry.

"Dean."

"No, Sam, come on. She disappeared on us and that's the question? Do we want coffee? No, we want an explanation."

You scoffed and dropped your purse onto your couch. "I gave an explanation. I wrote a note."

"A note?" Dean said, in disbelief. "You fled the  _universe_  and you think a two-paragraph note that you wrote to  _Cas_  is good enough?"

"I couldn't stay there!" You shouted, immediately regretting it because your neighbors might complain to the landlords about you. "I was just another problem. Don't you have enough of them?" You reasoned, turning to them.

"You didn't give us a chance to figure out a solution. You just left." Dean growled. It was interesting that he was the one talking, arguing, berating you because he was the one who denied feeling anything for you.

"When would you have had time?" You asked. "There are so many bigger issues in your world. You have to literally save the world... all the time. Wha-"

"You should have let us come up with something!"

"Dean, stop. This isn't why we're here." Sam reminded, quietly but forcefully.

"Why  _are_  you here?" You asked, just as quietly but with none of the force.

"We need your help, y/n." Sam said, stepping closer to you. "We need someone who can open portals... I mean, we  _have_  someone who can open portals, but we need someone who can open them and keep them open and open them to specific dimensions."

"Jack has control issues." Dean growled.

"Who's Jack?" You asked, sitting on the couch.

"Lucifer's kid. He's a Nephilim, incredibly powerful... just like you." Sam said.

"I'm not incredibly powerful here, so he's not like me."

"No, Sam means he's a Nephilim... just like you." Dean clarified.

You looked at them a bit dumbly for a minute before shaking your head. "What? I'm not a Nephilim. I think I'd know if I were half angel."

"You'd think, but you spent your whole life banished  _here_." Sam said. "But, we know. The British Men of Letters got your DNA off a glass of whisky and it confirmed what Mick theorized about you. You were obviously born in some other dimension and sent here for some reason."

"Probably to keep you safe. Heaven thinks Nephilim are abominations, so they have a habit of killing 'em as babies." Dean finished.

"But..." You shook your head. "I can't be a Nephilim."

"Yeah, get used to it. Point is, Nephilim can open portals. We need you to help Jack get a portal open to get our mom back."

"What, so Jack could open a portal to get you here but he can't open the portal to your mom?"

"That dimension is harder to find, because he hasn't seen it." Sam answered. " _We_  spent a good amount of time here, we were able to help him solidify his idea of it, his image of it."

"We just need you to come with us for a little while. We'll make sure you get back here to José as soon as possible." Dean grumbled.

You bit back an angry comment. You didn't see where he got off being an asshole about José when he literally sent you away. "I've spent almost a year building a life here and you want me to drop it all and run off to another dimension?"

"You were fine to do it a year ago." Dean growled.

"You sent me away!" You hissed across your living room at him. "You pawned me off on Castiel and went on with your lives. You can't expect me to believe you gave me much thought while you were dealing with Arthur Ketch brainwashing your mom or Cas going off the reservation with Kelly Kline, or Crowley bringing Lucifer back out of some ridiculous notion of revenge."

They both looked shocked for a moment, but a smile slowly crept across their faces. "You started watching the show?" Sam asked, softly.

You looked away. "I wanted to know how you guys were doing. Is that so wrong?"

"You were so determined to get away from us that you came back here to the world with no magic and started creepin' on us from across the multiverse?" Dean asked, amused. "How's José feel about you being in love with a couple of TV characters?"

"You think I'm stupid enough to share all this with him? He thinks I have a standing shrink appointment on Thursdays and that's less embarrassing."

"Why don't you come back, y/n?" Sam asked. "Not just because we need your help, which we do, but because... we miss you."

"And you obviously miss us." Dean eyed your DVD shelf where you had 12 sets of Blu-rays of Supernatural. There was silence for a few minutes while you thought about it. "You don't love him."

"How do  _you_  know? Watching us for a few hours last night?" You dismissed. 

"'cause he's not your soulmate, we are." Dean responded, with certainty. 

"And we watched you all day yesterday. Longer than we should have. Like we said, we almost went home without asking for your help, but-"

You nodded. "It's your mom... stuck in Apocalypse World with the archangels. I guess... I understand that."

"You really do look happy." Sam started.

"But you can't be. With your normal job and your... José. You're a half-angel wonder witch from another world, you don't belong here. You don't belong with him." Dean sighed and took another step closer to you. "You can't be happy, 'cause  _we've_  been miserable. Even the wins we been gettin', like Cas comin' back, they don't feel much like wins."

"How'd the show deal with Misha dying back when we were here?" Sam asked curiously, breaking the rope of tension between you and Dean.

"They just put him in another vessel about halfway through season six, an actor named Adam Campbell took over as Cas. I assume that's when Misha Collins was murdered." You responded, standing.

"It's so nice how they can just break our lives up into seasons." Sam started.

"And episodes." Dean added.

"Look, I have missed you guys  _and_  the other dimension, but... I've worked really hard to be okay here. I have..." You thought about the things you'd accumulated in the last year, the new life you put together from the ashes of your old ones and the only thing you could say was, "José loves me. I can feel it."

"But you don't love him." Sam said, certainly. "We watched you with him."

"You don't look at him like you look at Sam."

"Or like you look at Dean." 

"So?" You asked, walking into the kitchen and opening your freezer. You pulled a bottle of Tito's out and grabbed a glass from your cupboard. "It's nice. He's nice. There's no drama with him and no drama here."

"There's no passion with him, either." Dean whispered. "You aren't supposed to be with him, y/n."

"Since when are you so gung-ho about soulmates, Dean?" You asked, pouring a tall glass of vodka. 

"Since I haven't been able to get you out of my head for a fuckin' year." He was suddenly behind you, hands on your hips. "Since I can't go a single night without dreaming of you." He brought his lips down to your neck, but didn't touch you, just allowing his breath to cascade across your skin. "And not just bending you over a table and fucking you into oblivion-"

"Which I never got a chance to do, by the way." Sam added.

"Hunting with you, living with you, taking what little domestic bliss we could take in the life. I have dreamed about what our kids would look like, y/n, and they are gorgeous." You closed your eyes and shook your head. Why were they doing this to you?

"Me, too. Dreamed you watching  _Game of Thrones_  with us, all of us cuddled up together on my bed with a big bowl of your caramel popcorn between us. Teaching you how to shoot and how to fight. Y/n, Dean and I have never been big on sharing but the important things... we'd never deny each other the important things." Sam slid his hand across your shoulder and scoffed happily when you subconsciously leaned into the touch. "It sounds crude to say we want to share you, y/n, but we love you and there's nothing crude about that."

"Why are you doing this to me?" You whispered. 

"Because we love you." Dean's fingertips tightened their grip on your hips. "A couple days after we sent you to Cas, I got cursed by a witch. Lost my memory."

"I know. I saw. Jensen gave a riveting performance."

"Oh, I'm sure the soap opera actor found all the nuance of being erased, but do you know what I learned from that whole experience? I remembered the important things longer than the others. I regressed years and still remembered you until almost the end." You gasped. "Didn't you notice that?"

"I'm not in the show." You shook your head. "Not really. I was a one episode guest, played by some Canadian chick who looks like me. They cut my character after I ran off with Rowena. Never showed me again. Implication is Rowena sent me home when I wouldn't be corrupted."

"Why would they take you-" Sam started.

You pulled away from their touch. "It's the CW, not HBO. They can't keep in a character whose main storyline involves getting hit with a sex hex. And besides, the fans don't like you to have anything real in your lives so they took out the whole love spell angle. I was trying a luck spell, instead. 'Cause that makes sense."

"Come back with us." Sam insisted. "We can save our mom. She'd really love to meet you."

"Oh, really? Mary still gonna wanna meet me after she finds out I fucked both of you?" You reminded harshly. 

"Mom thinks you're right about us being twin souls." Sam said, smiling. "We share a Heaven. That's a dead giveaway."

"And we're both in love with you. That's another." Dean finished. "We've talked to our mom about this, y/n. When we went after Ramiel, she could tell something was off with us. So after Wally left, we told her and Cas what we were thinking."

"Ah. The  _Reservoir Dogs_  episode."

"The what?" They asked, together.

"The fight with Ramiel was done like  _Reservoir Dogs._ Following four different points of view, getting a little more info each time we got back to the beginning. I mean, right down to Cas as Mr. Orange bleeding from a stomach wound throughout the whole thing."

"That sounds.... awesome, actually, and I would love to sit and watch the episode, have you point out all the similarities with  _Reservoir_  which I love that you know because that's classic Tarantino before he went crazy with the blood and the weird rapey vibe in his movies, but..." Dean looked at his wrist, his watch sliding a little along his arm. "We gotta get back to Jack. He can't keep the portals open forever. That's part of the reason we need you. Come with us, y/n."

You took a deep breath and looked down. "Fuck." You whispered, before rushing for your bedroom. "I'm not leaving without my stuff this time. I've had to start over from scratch twice, now. Goddess, I've become a fuckin' runner." You said, grabbing a duffel bag and tossing it on your bed.

When the Winchesters walked into the bedroom, satisfied smiles on their faces, they stopped short as clothes flew past their faces to drop into the bag and fold themselves. "Whoa! How'd you-" Sam asked, as a bottle of your favorite perfume zoomed toward the bag.

"Well, it's been difficult." You said from your spot bent under your bathroom sink to retrieve your feminine products to add to the toiletries and makeup in your arms. "There's no magic here except me, but the more time I spent on it, the stronger I got." You dropped your items in the bag and they moved to stack themselves neatly together. "I'm not anywhere near as strong as I am back in your dimension, but..."

"Way stronger than you used to be, though. I mean, you spent the whole beginning of your life-" Sam looked around at the flying objects. 

"Well, I didn't know I could do it back then. So, I couldn't. But I knew I could when I got back, so I could. Does that make sense?"

There was a short silence followed by, "Like Harry Potter making a full-bodied Patronus for the first time." from Sam.

"Right!" You smiled as the duffel bag zipped itself. "Yeah, I mean, it was kinda like learning to ride a bike. I had training wheels on in your dimension and when I got back here, I had to learn to mount up again, learn to use the hand brakes. This metaphor is getting away from me, but I'm... half angel wonder witch." You said, grabbing the notepad where a pen had written out a 'goodbye' note for José while you packed.

"Did your pen just- that's some Crowley shit, there." Dean said, pulling the note out of your hand as soon as you'd signed it. 

"I actually got the idea from an old cartoon with a wizard. Self-inking and writing quill, it was a good idea."

"Liar. You got it from Harry Potter." Dean responded. "Why's he get a better 'Dear John' than we did?"

"Because I'm not drunk and running away from my problems. I'm running toward them." 

"Won't be no problems once we get you back home." Dean said.

"Liar. There's plenty of problems on your end."

"Yeah, true... but somehow, I don't think those problems are gonna seem so bad with you back." Sam plucked the letter from Dean's hand and placed it on your pillow. "You ready? We really don't have much more time. Portal's bound to be closing soon."

You nodded, picking up your duffel bag and rushing for the door. Your purse and keys flew into your hand as you walked purposefully through the living room. "Grab that backpack." You requested of neither in particular, pointing at a large backpack hovering over your sofa.

Dean grabbed it. "Better not be twelve seasons of Supernatural in here." He groaned, slinging it over his shoulder. 

"And my laptop and accompanying electronics." You turned to him with a smile as you opened the door. "Thought you might wanna see yourself kill Hitler."

Dean's eyes lit up as he walked back over the threshold. "Hell, yeah, I wanna see me kill Hitler."

It only took twenty minutes to get to the abandoned building on the outskirts of town. When you walked into it, you stopped. Looking at Jack, standing next to his struggling interdimensional tear, was a lot different than seeing his counterpart, Alexander Calvert, on the TV screen. Jack's eyes flashed a gold color as they met yours and, based on the looks you got from Sam and Dean, yours did the same. Jack smiled. "Your friend was right. She  _is_ like me."

"Yeah, Mick wasn't really our friend, but let's go before that thing closes on us." Dean nodded toward the tear. 

You smiled at Jack. There was an instant connection. He felt like a long-lost brother, more-so than any of the family you'd left back in your hometown. "Don't worry, Dean." You reached out and grabbed Jack's hand. The tear in the middle of the room glowed brighter and widened as your fingers intertwined with Jack's. "Let's go home." 

Sam and Dean were staring at you when you walked into the war room of the Bunker. "What? Why are you staring at y/n?" Jack asked, letting go of your hand and walking next to the brothers to stare at your face, too.

"Her eyes aren't normally gold, Jack." Sam explained. 

"Can you- can you stop it?" Dean asked, moving to drop your backpack on the map table.

"Sorry." You said, your eyes slipping back to y/e/c. "Didn't even know I did it."

"What I'm wonderin' is..." Dean turned back to look at the group. "...how did Cas not see this? I mean, he had you for, what, two weeks, close quarters? Why didn't he know that you were a freakin' Nephilim?"

"Well, I didn't use any magic or power or any of that while I was with him, and Castiel's only a broken angel, really, and he'd only ever seen a Nephilim formed from the joining of a human with a low-level  _malakim._ " You responded.

"So, Castiel wasn't able to recognize her for an archangel Nephilim because he'd never seen one." Jack continued. 

"Wait, so you think she's an  _archangel_  Nephilim?" Sam asked. "I thought you were the only one."

"Definitely." You and Jack said at the same time.

"I think she might be..." Jack turned to you and smiled. "...my sister."

"Your sister?" Sam asked.

"I feel it, too." You shrugged. "I mean, probably not, like, the same exact-"

"You feel like... you're a child of Lucifer?" Dean asked, his eyebrows scrunching together.

You shrugged, slightly, feeling a bit uncomfortable with all three of them staring at you. "I don't know. I mean, if I am a child of Lucifer, it's obviously not the same Lucifer and I know that's splitting hairs, but I look at Jack and I feel like he's my brother and-"

Sam put his large hand on your shoulder and smiled down at you. "Y/n, it's okay. You're back where you belong. We'll figure everything out. I promise."

"Okay." You smiled up at him. "You still gonna love me if I  _am_  Lucifer's daughter?"

"Can't change it now, can we?" Dean said, leaning against the table. "All right, so, we give the kids a few days to charge their batteries, then we hit Apocalypse World and get mom back."

"I don't know how to get there, though. I mean-" You started.

"You and Jack, you can do this." Sam assured. "You know how to get these rifts open to specific places and the two of you together, you can keep it open long enough for us to get Mom out."

"Okay. I..." You nodded. "Okay."

"Hey, Jack, why don't you give us some time alone with your, uh, your sister. That's actually not as weird to say as I thought it'd be." Dean mused.

"Yeah, Jack, uh, we actually have a lot to catch up with y/n on. You wanna go watch the TV in my room? I have your profile up on Netflix, all the cartoons you could watch." Sam said.

"And we'll get y/n set up in her old room." Dean grabbed your hand and pulled you toward your old bedroom. Sam followed, your bags in his arms. The door hadn't even closed behind Sam when Dean pulled you to him and locked his lips against yours. You looked up at him, breathless, as he pulled away. "Sorry. We really do need to talk, but I've been thinking about doing that for..."

"A year. My turn." Sam's large hands grasped each side of your head as he pulled you into a kiss. "Damn. She tastes just like I remember."

"Yeah, well, we'll get to the tasting later, Sammy. Right now, we gotta discuss terms." Dean flopped on your bed and looked up at you.

"Terms?"

"Relationship terms. See, Sammy and me worked it out on the way back from taking down Ramiel. We were working out all the fine bits, like how to deal with Sudden Jealousy Syndrome, when Cas called and told us about your note. Jus' sayin', you should've given us more time to come up with a solution because we almost had one." 

"How was I supposed to know you were actually working on a solution?" You asked.

"We told you we were!" Sam exclaimed. 

"I didn't think you were telling the truth! I thought you were just, you know, saying that because you thought it'd make me leave easier. You had a million other things to worry about other than me."

"Yeah, but you being here makes all that other shit easier to deal with." Sam said, smiling.

You blushed at the loving statement. "So, what did you figure out? How do we make this work?"

"Well, this isn't just about sex, you know?" Sam started.

"Be a lot easier if it was. Just take turns, right?" Dean interjected.

"This is about love, though, which is a lot harder. Or it would be-"

"If we weren't twin souls and your soulmates." Dean took your hand and kissed the back of it. "Complete honesty about how we're feeling, what we want, that's how we get through this. We hold you close, we teach you to survive, we keep you and Jack out of Asmodeus' hands, and when we feel like sex... that'd be nice."

"Oh, man. I forgot about Asmodeus. Colonel Sanders-looking motherfucker. If I'm..." You started.

"Don't worry about Asmodeus. We're here. We'll keep you safe." Sam comforted. "You and Jack are... literally the most powerful celestial beings in the universe. You aren't going to fall to-"

"The Dark Side? Because when i was here last, you were pretty sure I was gonna go Dark Side."

"We weren't sure of it, we were afraid of it. But we know... nothing to be afraid of." 

You smiled at them. "Okay. Won't worry about Asmodeus... and I agree to your terms. Complete honesty. I think it'll be easier for me than you guys. I've watched all the lies and secrets you two have kept, remember?"

"Oh, yeah! When can we watch me killing Hitler?" Dean lit up, bouncing himself off of the bed.

"Tomorrow. Tonight, I'm in the mood for something cuddle-worthy.  _Game of Thrones_?" 

Sam smiled. "Gonna make popcorn?"

You nodded. "Kitchen still set up the same?"

~~~~~~

You were curled up on Dean's bed between two sleeping hunters when you felt it the first time; a prodding in your mind, like someone was digging at your brain. You were compelled to follow the feeling, against your better judgment, and found yourself astral projected in front of a familiar throne. "You're not Jack." Asmodeus drawled at you.


	6. Light

"You're not Jack." Asmodeus across the throne room at you.

"No, I'm not." You answered, shortly.

"My lord, Asmodeus, I-" A demon walked into the throne room staring down at a clipboard.

"Can't you see we've got a guest, Percy? Show some respect." The Prince of Hell gestured at you and stood.

"He probably  _couldn't_ see me until you pointed me out. Low-level demons don't have perception like Princes of Hell do."

"Sir? Who's this?" The demon asked, looking at you with confusion.

"I don't, rightly, know, Percy. Let's find out."

You walked around him, surveying the room you'd only ever seen on your TV screen. "That'd be really threatening if I weren't a projection."

"And why are you projected here, miss?" Asmodeus asked, following you as you walked toward the throne.

"I -unno. I was sleeping and then something was calling me here." You walked around the back of the large, ornate wooden throne. "Are we in Needham? I really didn't expect you guys to keep using this set as a base of operations, especially with Crowley dead." 

Asmodeus seemed surprised that you knew the location. "It's a good central location on Earth... and the last place the hunters would expect us to be."

You looked around the throne at him. "Well,  _Heaven_ is the last place they'd expect you to be, but okay." You ran through your mental map of the asylum and started walking away. 

"Where are you-" The demon Percy started but Asmodeus just followed you as you walked through Needham Asylum, exploring. You stopped in front of two cells, one housing Castiel and one housing a depleted Lucifer. They both stood, moving to grab the bars and stare at you through them.

"Y/n, what are you doing here?" Cas asked as Asmodeus showed up behind you.

"Thanks for dropping my name, Cas. I was gonna Rumpelstiltskin this shit." You joked, avoiding looking at Lucifer, who was staring at you. "And I'm not really here. I'm projecting."

"I mean, this dimension. You fled back to your own world."

"A girl's allowed to change her mind, Cas. God gave us free will, didn't he?"

"You know this girl?" Asmodeus asked the angels.

"Never seen her before." Lucifer answered, but his tone, and how his eyes hadn't let your face since he saw you, told you he knew exactly who and what you were.

"She's a witch, caused significant chaos for Sam and Dean." Castiel said, obviously catching on that he shouldn't tell Asmodeus that you were a friend. "She comes from another world. After the chaos died down, she retreated back to her home world."

"And what dimension is it that you are from, Miss y/n?"

"Couldn't tell ya." You answered, truthfully. "Know where I'm going. Know where I've been, but I have no clue where I originated. I've got no memories from before I was with my fosters, but maybe I've been with them since before my brain was saving memories." You shrugged. "Who cares? I'm here now. Well, not  _here_ , but you know what I mean."

"So, were you one of Crowley's witches? That how you know of the asylum?" The demon asked. Lucifer seemed very interested in your answer, leaning ever-so-slightly closer. 

"Crowley and his mother tried. I'm not interested in being controlled. I'm a free agent." You smiled. "Anyway, I really enjoyed our conversation, Colonel Sanders, but I wanna get back to my body so-"

"But why were you here in the first place, y/n? I was callin' to Jack and you showed up."

You smirked. "It's a simple matter of you being very loud in my astral environment." You looked from the cells to Asmodeus. "I'm sure if this Jack was in Kansas, he'd have heard you, too. The searching meditation thing... loud."

"Terribly sorry to disturb you, sweetheart. Have you seen Jack?"

"I met Jack Nicholson on a plane once, but I don't think that's who you're looking for."

"How astute." Asmodeus drawled.

"Thanks. I pride myself on my deductive reasoning capabilities." You chanced a look at Lucifer, catching a flash of pride on his face at your sass.

"I am looking for Jack, the Nephilim offspring of  _him_." The demon pointed at Lucifer "You know, the most powerful being on Earth."

"Well, like Castiel said..." For some reason you couldn't place, the name came out the way Lucifer always said it, as two syllables instead of three. "I was off-world for a while. I don't know anything about a Nephilim."

"Oh, real-leh?"

"Not one that  _survived_. Nephilim are abominations in the eyes of Heaven, right?" You gestured to Castiel. "Only because Heaven's afraid of their power, but that's a whole 'nother thing."

"For not knowin' anything about Nephilim, you sure do know a lot about how Heaven treats them." Asmodeus accused.

"I'm well-read. Also, you know, why else would Heaven have such a big problem with a little human-loving? God did say to love us, right?"

"I'm sure God wasn't thinkin' about sex when he passed down that decree." The demon said.

"I'm sure you don't  _know_  what God was thinking. You think God's too good to think about sex? Man was made in His image and men think about sex all the time. What do you know?"

"Can we not talk about my dad and sex, please?" Lucifer whined.

You chuckled but didn't look at him. You weren't sure if you were trying to keep Asmodeus from recognizing the connection between you and Lucifer, or if you were trying to deny it to Lucifer himself, but you were certain it'd be evident if you gave full attention to him. "Everyone has to confront the fact that their parents had sex at some point. I mean, it's a little different when your father is the Allfather, but whatever." You turned back to Asmodeus. "Anyway, keep your loud meditation to yourself and I won't bug you again."

"I'll do my best, witch."

You jerked as you came back to your body and Sam tightened his arm around your waist, in his sleep. Dean's hand on your hip pulled you closer to him, in response. "Guys." You whispered. They each grunted in their sleep, so you just teleported out of their grasp. That woke them.

"Hey." Sam greeted, sitting up and stretching.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked, zeroing in on your expression. 

"Um... I have to... go save Castiel from Asmodeus."

"What?" Dean asked, sitting up, too.

You took a deep breath. "Asmodeus was searching for Jack, as he's wont to do, but he found me instead. I know I shouldn't have gone, but it was so loud and scratching at my brain and I... I astral projected to him and... he's got... he's got Castiel."

"Why would you go to him?" Sam asked as Dean's eyebrows scrunched together.

"Why'd you say 'Castiel' like that?"

You rolled your eyes. "I don't know. It just came out like that. Cas  _and_  Lucifer are with Asmodeus."

"What do you mean, Lucifer?" Dean asked, as Sam took on a look of panic. "He's in Apocalypse World, ain't he?"

"Not anymore. He's in a cell next to Cas. I'm gonna go get Cas."

"What cell is gonna hold Lucifer?" Sam asked.

"He seemed... less. You know, like Cas when he got his Grace yanked. I wish I hadn't missed the last few weeks' episodes."

"Wait, go where? Where's Asmodeus have him? And what the hell are you thinking? You can't go there. If Asmodeus gets you-" Dean stood, looking down at you.

"He won't. I'm stronger than him. And it's not like I can leave Cas locked up in Needham Asylum. I'll be in and out before Asmodeus even knows I'm there." 

"They're at Needham?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. I guess Crowley started a trend. You know how much the demons hate staying in Hell where they belong." You shook your head. "It's fine. I can do this."

"We'll come with you." Sam offered, standing.

"No, you won't. Lucifer is there." You took Sam's hand in yours. "Lucifer, who's tortured and manipulated you, who's tried to end everything. You don't need to be there, or see him. I'll bring Cas back, okay?"

"Y/n, don't go without us." Dean almost begged.

"I promise that I'll be back so quick." You said, with a smile. You went to your tiptoes and wrapped your arms around Sam's neck, pulling him down for a kiss. You pulled away and repeated the motion with Dean before disappearing. You reappeared outside the asylum, at the bottom of the stone steps. You chuckled at the warding on the door and passed through to the other side. You slipped through the halls of the asylum and down to basement, touching each ward as you passed it and smiling as they burned away. 

Cas and Lucifer jumped up when you walked in front of their cells. "Y/n, why are you here?" Castiel asked, as you put your hands on the lock and pulled the door open as soon as it clicked. 

"Getting rid of all these anti-angel wards and getting you out of here." You answered. You moved to put your hand on Cas' shoulder and fly off with him, but Lucifer stopped you by grabbing your wrist.

"You can't leave me here, y/n." You looked down at Lucifer's hand, then up to his face. His eyes went red and you were certain yours went gold because he smiled, brightly. "You're my daughter. I could tell the moment I saw you. You cannot leave me to rot in this cell."

"I can, and I should." You answered. 

"Y/n... you're-" Castiel started. You didn't let him finish his sentence, flying Castiel to the bunker, dropping him in the war room, and immediately flying back to the asylum.

"You came back." Lucifer whispered, happily.

"I can't leave you here. For some stupid reason." You broke the wards on Lucifer's cell and he stepped out, happily. 

"I knew you wouldn't let me down." You grabbed his shoulder and flew off with him. He looked up at the building you flew him to. "What's-"

"I need breakfast and coffee before I deal with you. Based on your Graceless aura, I'm gonna assume you should eat something, too. Biggerson's. Have some pie." You pulled open the door and headed inside. 

Lucifer followed. "I am not  _Graceless._ " He insisted. 

"Just two?" The hostess asked. You nodded and she led you and Lucifer to a booth in the corner. "Ashley is your server, she'll be right with you. Can I get you started with some drinks?"

"Two coffees." You ordered.

"I don't want-"

"Shut up, Dad." You interrupted as the hostess walked away. "Coffee is like precious ambrosia. You'll thank me later."

"Oh." Lucifer pretended to get choked up. "You called me 'Dad'."

"No point in denying I'm the daughter of the Devil, is there? My parents back home hinted at it my whole life, but I just thought they hated me." You smiled at the hostess as she dropped two coffee mugs off and a bowl of creamer. 

"So, tell me everything." Lucifer demanded, happily.

"Not much to tell. I'm another version of you's daughter. I was sent from whatever dimension I was born in to a dimension where there's no Heaven or Hell, where the version of you is an actor named Mark." Lucifer seemed scandalized by the thought. "I don't know why I was sent away. Maybe because Heaven didn't know how to kill an archangel Nephilim. Regular Nephilim are hard enough to get rid of, ask Cas."

Lucifer rolled his eyes and reached across the table. "Let's go ahead and get this out of the way." His hand grasped yours and the last thing you saw before you were pulled down into your memories was his red eyes. 

_**And then you were looking up into his vessel's blue eyes, which were cast down on you, reverently.** _

_**"She's so beautiful, isn't she? So full of my Grace and her mother's human potential. In a few years time, she will be the most powerful being in the universe, maybe as strong as her grandfather." He looked up at whomever he was addressing. "Michael would twist her soul, like he did with the souls of his demon followers. He would use her against me. He would have no qualms twisting the humanity in her so that he could use her power as a weapon."** _

_**"Do we kill her now, then, General?" A familiar male voice asked.** _

_**"No, Zachariah." Lucifer looked down at you again. "I now know a father's love. I understand why Father wanted us to love the humans; because He loved them so. Despite their flaws and the damage they cause each other and all His other creations... He loves them... I can't destroy her."** _

_**"I could." Another voice, a deep baritone one, volunteered.** _

_**"No, Uriel. I haven't called you here for that. I need someone to take her away to safety."** _

_**"Safety. Where on Earth do you think she's going to be safe, Lucifer?" A familiar female voice chimed in.** _

_**"Nowhere... on this Earth, but there are other Earths and there's one where the fight with Michael will never happen. Heaven and Hell can't battle if there's no Heaven or Hell."** _

_**"No Heaven or Hell? How would such a place-" The female started again.** _

_**"They conduct themselves much as the humans here do, Castiel, because they have faith in what they cannot see, misplaced though it may be for them." Lucifer sighed. "I need a team to take her to the other dimension and watch over her."** _

_**"Whoever goes would be unable to fight in the battle." Castiel's voice went low, like she'd been offended by the thought of not getting to fight.** _

_**"And in the interest of complete disclosure... as this universe is the epitome of the mundane, I do not believe there is a way to come back."** _

_**"We'd be stuck?" Uriel asked, anger lacing his words.** _

_**"Yes. You would be stuck, forced to live as humans, unable to fight in the Apocalypse, completely cut off from Heaven's Grace... and I would be eternally grateful and in your debt for this service."** _

_**There was silence as Lucifer looked at the trio of angels before him. "Of course we'll do this for you, sir." Came Castiel's voice, finally. "And no debt will be necessary. We're happy to serve you."** _

_**Lucifer smiled. "No, you aren't happy about it, Castiel, but you might find it in you, eventually. Here. I will begin the spell to send you, you should get used to holding Orli."** _

_**Your vision was jostled as you were passed from Lucifer's arms to the waiting arms of a brunette woman with sharp blue eyes. Castiel, or as you'd always known her 'Mom', looked down at you with disdain. "This is terrible." She whispered as your 'father' came into view, looking down at you. "I am a soldier, not a-a nursemaid."** _

_**"We're being trusted with our leader's most precious-" Zachariah began.** _

_**"We're going to have to live as hairless apes, Zachariah. We will eat and sleep and age and die with them and it is all because our General decided he needed to feel the joy of Creation before taking down Michael. How is that fair?" Uriel almost growled.** _

_**"It's not Lucifer's job to make things fair for us, you maggot. This is an honor he could've asked anyone to carry out but he turned to us. Us, his most trusted. Take it as an honor, you dumbshits."** _

_**The trio stared down at you. "She isn't light. I'll not call her 'Orli'." Castiel finally whispered. "We'll call her 'y/n'."** _

You gasped as you pulled out of your memories, blinking rapidly.

"I was the  _good guy_ in your dimension?" Lucifer whispered, confused.

" _Never_  do that to me again." You insisted, pulling your hand out of his grasp. 

"Well, I'm sorry, but wasn't that easier than hearing you blather on about how you don't remember anything? Now you remember something! Your parents hated you because they had to give up their celestial identity to protect you."

"I'm just realizing that I never saw my parents being any kind of affectionate... and Castiel was my mom, which is... awkward." You sighed. "And it totally explains why they wouldn't go to church with me. They wouldn't want to hear you badmouthed so much."

The server walked up and took your orders, two cheeseburgers and fries, and walked away. "How did you end up a witch if you were raised by angels? I mean, not that you could call Castiel and Zachariah prime examples of angel, but..."

"I don't even know, now. I thought my grandma started me on it, but... I don't even know who that woman was."

"So, you're a witch, but you're Castiel's friend?" Lucifer picked up the coffee mug and sniffed at it before taking a tentative sip. 

"It's complicated." You answered, watching with interest as he took another sip followed by a gulp. 

"Complicated? I'm your father, but not your father. I'm evil but I'm also a savior. You're an angel and also a witch. You think I can't handle complicated?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Who are you a savior to?" You took a deep drink from your mug and set it down. "I am involved with the Winchesters so knowing Castiel,  _this_  Castiel, is unavoidable."

"Involved?" You could see the whine coming before he put his own mug on the table and slumped his shoulders. "Tell me you haven't allowed one of those birdbrained cretins to touch you." 

"That's really none of your business, Dad."

"Oh, my Dad. Which one was it?" You avoided his gaze, knowing he could see the truth in your eyes if he caught them. He huffed out an angry breath and leaned back against the booth seat. "I honestly don't know which one would be worse. Sam, with his self-righteous bullshit or Dean, with his self-hatred and both of them,  _both of them_ , think they're so freaking special. Just, what, 'cause Dad wrote about 'em? Dad only wrote about them because-"

"Shut up." You demanded, looking across the table at him. He stopped his whining rant and looked at you. "Grandpa wrote about them  _because_  they're special, not the other way around. They are intelligent, handsome, brave and they have pushed through a million things that would have destroyed lesser men, including literal Hell for both of them. I'm blessed to have gotten either of their attention and fortunate enough to have gotten the love of both of them. You're the fuckin' Devil, you aren't gonna make me feel bad about my relationship status."

"You're with... both of them?" Lucifer asked, picking up his mug again.

"I said it's complicated, didn't I?"

"You know I hate them, right? And  _they_  hate  _me_? Your boyfriends hate your father." He reiterated. "They want to send me back to the Cage."

"If you could handle being on Earth without trying to kill all humans and take everything over, maybe they wouldn't be so bent on sending you back to where  _God_  sent you." 

"I wasn't trying to murder Dad's faves last year, was I? No, I was just trying to bask in some of the love and attention that I have been, historically, deprived. Then, here comes Castiel and Crowley, the little worm, to end my fun."

"This is when you were Rick Springfield, right?"

"Who? I was wearing Vince Vincente."

"I know. But you know, a single Jessie's Girl reference would've been amazing." You joked.

"What? Anyway..." Lucifer waved away the confusion and continued. "I was just having some fun. No big plan, no mass genocide, just a bit of-"

A phone started going off in your jacket pocket and when you pulled it out the screen said 'Sam'. "When did they plant this on me?" You whispered, answering it. "Hey, Sam."

"Where've you been? Cas has been back for almost half an hour and you're nowhere to be seen."

"Lucifer escaped." You lied. It flowed out so easily that it almost didn't feel like a lie when you said it. "I went back to put the enochian wards back up and he was gone. It's all my fault, Sam. I have to find him."

There was silence on the other end of the phone as Lucifer gave a proud look across the table at you. Sam cleared his throat. "It's not your fault, y/n. Lucifer, he's an opportunist. As soon as you broke those wards, he was probably thinking about how to get out of that cell. Why don't you come back? We'll regroup and look for him, together."

"Gimme an hour, Sammy. If I can't find him in an hour, I'll come back."

"Y/n, I don't think that's-"

"I just need to try to fix this myself first. Please."

"Okay. Call us if you get close. He might be powered down, but he's still Lucifer."

"Okay. Love ya. Bye." You quickly turned the GPS location option off on the phone and looked across at Lucifer, who had a positively giddy look on his face. "Don't give me that look."

"You just lied to your boyfriend about  _me._ I've never felt so proud."

"I lied because if I told him, he and Dean'd pack into Baby and hunt us down. You might not be the Dad who felt the love of being a father over me, but you  _are_ still my father."

"And what's your endgame here, Orli?" He leaned forward. "You can't just let me leave here on my own, because you don't trust me. You can't tell Sam and Dean where we are because they'd never trust  _you_  again. We can't stay  _here_  forever and you don't want to come with me, so what's the plan?"

"No plan. You think I had a plan when I pulled you out of Needham? No. I just couldn't let my Dad rot in a cell because of some ambitious underling. That's it. Knowing all the pain you've caused, all the death and destruction... I looked in that cell and saw my dad. So, I am going to eat this burger..." You smiled as the waitress dropped off the plates and walked off. "...and I am going to come up with something, with or without your input. 'kay?"

"Look, why don't you just let me head out by myself? I'm not gonna do anything. I'm practically human." He picked up his burger and took a bite. "Look at me, I'm eating! Oh, wow! That is amazing. How disgusting." He took several more bites as you watched in amusement.

"If you think that's disgusting, wait 'til it comes out... and slow down if you don't wanna learn about vomit." You popped a fry in your mouth and leaned forward as he noticeably slowed in his eating. "You don't know how to do this, Dad. You need help. And if you think I find you any less dangerous because you've had your Grace yanked, then you must think I'm stupid."

"I dunno if 'stupid' is the right word." He swallowed and picked up his coffee. "'Uniformed', maybe? Of  _course_  I'm less dangerous. You think that ingrate, Asmodeus, would be breathing if I were full power?"

You rolled your eyes. "So you can't dust people with a snap of your fingers, anymore. So? You know how many humans murder each other every day? Not a drop of Grace between 'em. You're still dangerous."

"That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

"Eat your food." You demanded softly.

He didn't speak as he started eating again, slower this time. You dropped money on the table and walked out into the parking lot with him as soon as you were both done eating. "So, what's next, Orli?"

"I don't know how I feel about you calling me that." You said, grabbing his forearm.

"Why? It's your name." He insisted.

"Yeah, but-" You shook your head and flew him to the Bunker's War Room. Sam, Dean and Castiel all shifted into defensive stances as soon as they saw you. "Hey, guys."

"You found him?" Sam asked.

"He didn't escape." You responded, honestly.

Lucifer threw his hands up. "Oh, come on!" He groaned. "You couldn't keep a lie going for more than an hour?! Are you  _sure_  you're my daughter?"

"I  _can_  lie. I just prefer the truth." You answered. 

"What do you mean, 'he didn't escape'?" Dean asked.

"I let him out. I couldn't leave him there with Asmodeus. I-I know that this could be seen as-as a betrayal, but-"

"'Could be'?" Lucifer chimed in.

"I took him to get something to eat. You can't tell this but he's... way depleted." 

"It's true. He's very weak." Cas confirmed.

"I am  _not_ -"

"Shut up, Dad." You snapped, before turning back to Sam and Dean. "I'm so sorry. I just couldn't leave him there. I really just went to save Castiel, but there was my father in the next cell over, I couldn't leave him."

"Seriously, babe, it's pronounced 'Cass-tee-el'. Long 'E'." Dean corrected.

Lucifer's face screwed up in disgust. "Okay, ew, infantilizing pet name." He gagged. "And my daughter is just saying it like her daddy does."

"You callin' yourself 'daddy' is ew." Dean shot back.

"I'm saying it how it's said in my dimension." You defended.

"And why's it said that way in your dimension?" Lucifer prodded, pointing not-too-subtly at herself.

"Why don't you shut your stupid mouth before I shut it for you?" You growled. He put his hands up in a non-threatening gesture.

The anger flowed out of their faces. "You found out where you're from?"

"Not quite, but Lucifer helped me remember some."

"Get this! I'm the Michael in her universe!" Lucifer exclaimed.

"What does that mean?" Castiel asked.

"Means Chuck entrusted the Mark to Michael so  _he's_  the one who was tainted and rebelled. Lucifer's the obedient son where I'm from." You answered.

"Did you remember how you got to... Muggle world?" Dean asked.

"Cas took me." You went with the shortened version of his name to avoid name shame. "Cas, Zachariah and Uriel."

"Really?" Sam exclaimed.

"Oh, it gets better. Show 'em the picture." Lucifer directed, chuckling.

You knew exactly which picture he was referencing. You rolled your eyes and summoned your laptop, opening it and pulling up a picture you'd poached from your Facebook when you decided you weren't going back home. It was you and your parents at a park on July Fourth. "Anybody look familiar, Cas?" You set the laptop on the map table and turned it so that he could examine the picture.

"This is one of my old vessels... and one of Zachariah's."

"These are my parents, who I thought were my parents, anyway. They always treated me with disdain. Never understood why." You trailed off.

"Oh, they  _hated_  her!" Lucifer laughed. "So much so that they changed her name."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Dean asked, as Sam asked, "From what?"

"Well, I guess I'm a sentimental  _douche_  having never been influenced by the Mark, 'cause I named her 'Orli'." He moved to sit on the map table next to your laptop. "That's Hebrew, Winchesters. Means 'My Light'. Castiel didn't care that y/n was my light, hated that they were being sent away for Orli's safety, so they changed her name before I even finished sending them away."

"I'm very sorry, y/n." Castiel looked from the picture to your face.

"Wasn't you."

"I know the neglect and poor treatment you suffered, y/n. It was a version of me-"

"And another version of you was a smiley, Twitter-obsessed goofball who helped the homeless." You shook your head. "Adam Campbell really can't hold a candle to the light Virgil extinguished. Point is, you're no more Misha Collins than you are the woman who raised me and changed my name. Don't sweat it."

"Wow, she has a saint-like level of not letting shit get to her. I mean, human Castiel was an alcoholic pill popper who once overdosed on Vicodin and meth... at Orli's twelfth birthday party. To forgive that-" Lucifer mockingly whistled appreciatively. "Of course, Zachariah as a human spent 5 years of her life in prison for instigating a bar fight that ended with a cop in the hospital, so..."

You shook your head. "It really wasn't that bad. Zachariah never turned his temper on me."

"She's great. Isn't she great? That's my daughter. I'm getting emotional." Lucifer mocked being touched again.

"I should've left him at the asylum." You groaned.

Lucifer jumped off the table. "No, this is good! We're bonding! Where's your brother? He should be here for this!" 

You blinked at him, not enthused. You knew where Jack was, you could feel him in his room. You knew he was listening to everything. "My brother will show himself when he's ready to face you. Until then..." You summoned the spell-etched manacles from the dungeon and slapped them onto Lucifer's wrists.

"Oh, come on!"

"You come on. I couldn't leave you with Asmodeus, but you were right when you said I don't trust you. None of us do."

"Here I was, thinking we were bonding." Lucifer bitched.

"Dungeon?" Dean asked.

"Dungeon." You and Sam confirmed.

"Let me show you to your accommodations." Dean grabbed the chain and pulled the archangel toward the dungeon. "Crowley rated us five stars."

You turned to Sam as soon Dean disappeared from view. "I really am... so sorry... that I lied, you know, when you called? I just didn't want you guys to jump in the Impala and rush to Biggerson's before I... you know, had my time with him. I needed...  _something_  from him. I don't know." 

"I understand, y/n. You wanted to see him without us influencing the conversation." Sam brought his hands to rest on your neck, his thumbs resting against the curve of your jaw and fingertips caressing your hairline. His gorgeous hazel eyes looked down at you with adoration. "You know, Lucifer was right."

"That's a strange sentence." You whispered.

Sam chuckled as you blushed under his gaze. "Orli's a good name for you. You are so full of light."

"I don't know about-"

"Y/n, you saw Lucifer in a cell and you  _had_  to save him. Not because you needed him for anything, just because you couldn't leave him with Asmodeus. You are full of more light than Chuck." 

"Thanks." You whispered, looking down. 

"I'm surprised by your light... especially after... I didn't know about how you were raised. You never mentioned..."

You pulled away and avoided Castiel's gaze. "It's really not that big a deal. Your raising was much more screwed up than mine."

"No, come on, don't downplay your pain." Sam pleaded, sitting in one of the wooden chairs. "Tell me about your childhood, y/n."

You sat sideways on his lap, legs hanging over the arm of the chair, and looked up at him. "My mom was an addict. Got worse every year I was there. Like Lucifer said, she overdosed on crystal meth during my twelfth birthday party. Pretty much traumatized all of my friends, and I didn't really have very many to start with. I can't count the number of times I had to clean her up, turn her on her side so that she wouldn't choke on her vomit like Hendrix." You sighed. "It was the sleep issues that caused the most problems, I think. Meth caused her some terrible insomnia. She'd be up for days, then drink until she passed out. I thought that was normal for a while, until one of my teachers told me it wasn't, called DCF. That was the first of many times that we picked up and moved without notice, started over from scratch. I was 7.

Dad went to the state pen when I was nine, got out just in time to threaten my first boyfriend with bodily dismemberment. He never talked to me again. I tried everything I could think of to... make everything okay." You bit the inside of your bottom lip as you thought through years of just trying to survive life. Sam put one hand on your hip and the other rested on your thigh, which gave a gentle, encouraging squeeze. "I started slipping them healing potions when I started with the witchcraft. Mom was losing her hair and teeth, and Dad got Hepatitis in prison so I was trying to help them... just gave them more energy to hate me. When I graduated from my sixth high school, I moved out... stayed in the same apartment until I got here. I liked staying in one place... I liked that they could find me if they needed me." 

You chuckled. "It's almost like I thought one day they'd wake up and realize that they loved me, come over and make amends, but... never happened. When I disappeared, they told the cops I must've run away because it's not like someone would've noticed me enough to want to kidnap or kill me."

Sam tucked a finger under your chin and prodded you to look at him. "They were blind if they didn't see your light."

"They gave up everything because of me. They had to stop being angels because of me. It's no wonder Zachariah had a violent temper and Castiel turned to drugs and alcohol. I have no idea what happened to Uriel, but I'm sure his reaction wasn't much better. I just wish they had told me I was..."

"Hey, that wasn't your fault. You were just a baby." Sam hugged you tight to his chest. "You know Dean practically raised me, right? Our dad was drunk, when he was around. But I always had someone. I always had Dean, even when I didn't want him. You... you didn't have anybody."

You wrapped your arms around him. "Well, I have the both of you now." 

The first kiss was slow and sweet, an affirmation of your previous sentence, but it didn't take long for the kiss to deepen. Sam's hands tightened their hold on you as you twisted on his lap to better accommodate his searching tongue. You grabbed at his gray under-shirt and moved to straddle his lap. He groaned and grasped the back of your t-shirt, pulling it off over your head. "God... I did not get to really enjoy this view last time." Sam whispered, running his hand down your chest.

You leaned up and kissed him. You were ecstatic to be in his arms again. To be touching him, knowing that you were about to teleport to your room to make love, it still seemed a little surreal. It was surreal that you  _could_  teleport, and that you were a Nephilim, and that your father was Satan, and-

Really, everything about your life at the moment was the ridiculous antithesis of what you'd expected it to be. 

You teleported to your bed, jumping up and pulling your clothes off while Sam got oriented with his new surroundings. He smiled as soon as his eyes fell on you. "Eager?"

"What, is that a bad thing?"

"Not necessarily." He pulled his plaid shirt and his undershirt off over his head and tossed them to the floor. "But you remember, last time you were a bit overeager and, uh, I barely got to taste you."

You smirked. "I remember it well. But I'm not under a sex hex anymore, so..." You trailed off, letting your eyes drift down his muscular chest. "Man. You are... unnaturally handsome." Sam smiled at you and reached forward, pulling you onto the bed. He rolled your bodies until he was on top of you, looking down at you through a curtain of his fluffy hair. "Oh, you look even better from this angle."

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, you know that?" He whispered, adoringly. You opened your mouth to disagree with him about how beautiful his exes had all been, Jessica especially, but immediately forgot to argue as his mouth attached to your neck and your mind focused on that. You could hear his pants unzipping as his hands massaged your hips and thighs. "Hey. None of that." He pulled back and shook his head at you as he pulled the zipper back up. "No Nephilim magic. We're taking this at my speed, not yours, Miss Impatient." 

"Sorry. I didn't mean to." You promised. 

"You're stronger here, y/n. You have to be careful about your focus." He whispered, leaning back down to kiss the tip of your nose.

"How am I supposed to focus in this situation, Sam?"

Sam smirked. "Well, that's  _your_ problem, isn't it? Now, just lay back and relax, let me do this how I wanted to last time." 

You sighed and closed your eyes as Sam started to kiss his way down your body. He took his time, just like he did before, but you since you weren't dying from heat this time you were able to enjoy the slow build of desire between your legs. He seemed determined to make it last as long as possible, avoiding all the most common erogenous areas and pointedly keeping his hands to himself. "Sam." You whined. Your hands were twisted in your pillow, trying to find something to do.

"I will gag you." He mumbled against your navel, where he'd been swirling his tongue for what felt like an hour. 

"But-"

His teeth came down on your hip, just hard enough to make you gasp. "Y/n, shut up."

"This is punishment for last time, isn't it? 'cause I Kilgrave'd you." You sat up slightly and looked down at him. He was between your legs, just where you wanted him to be, but he still had his jeans on and he had completely avoided putting that mouth where you wanted it.

"Is it so bad that I want to explore every bit of you?"

"Can you explore a sexier bit of me than my belly button, please?"

"You are no fun."

"I beg to differ, Sammy. I am a barrel of fuckin' fun."

"What do you have to do that's more important than what I'm doing with you?"

"Nothing." You groaned, throwing your head back on the pillow. "I know I'm not the only one this is torturing. You look like you're about to bust your zipper."

Sam chuckled. "You're adorable when you're frustrated." He whispered, before dropping one of his hands to lightly rub his fingers down your lips. 

"Fuck, Sam."

"Finally." He finished your thought for you as his middle finger slipped inside of you. 

"Gods, can I take your pants off now, please?" You asked as he started to fuck his finger in and out of you. 

"Yeah, go ahead." Sam consented as he added another finger. "You're so fuckin' wet."

"You've been working to get me wet for forever, so-" You snapped your fingers and his pants were suddenly on the floor with his shirt. 

"I'm not ready to fuck you, yet." He said before he started to circle around your clit. He licked and sucked at your womanhood for several minutes until he pulled back and got up onto his knees. "Wanted to taste you. Sorry." He licked at his fingers and gave a satisfied noise.

"You could've tasted me any time over the last  _hour_ , Sam."

"No fun." He reiterated, then kissed you. "But you definitely taste delicious."

You wrapped your legs around him and pulled him down to you. "You sure are spending a lot of time with me for being no fun." 

"Lucky for you, I'm in love." He smirked, kissing you before reaching down and wrapping his right hand around his cock. He slid his cockhead between your lips and guided it to your entrance. He swiveled his hips as he sunk into you. "Fuck, y/n." He kissed your neck and shoulder as he worked to get himself completely sheathed in you. He was bigger than you remembered, or maybe it just seemed that way after months of sub-par sex with José. Sam's movements were sure and confident, as he always was with you, but José had always approached sex like he was afraid he'd hurt you with his 8 inches. You'd never had the heart to explain that the two men who touched you before him were both giants in comparison, or that he actually hurt you more with his careless hands than his cock. Fingernail maintenance is vital.

"Hey, y/n. Earth to y/n." Sam whispered in your ear. "You got that far-off look in your eyes."

"Sorry. Just trying to be quiet. Don't wanna force you to-" He rolled his eyes and pulled his hips back, immediately slamming them forward and causing you to cry out. "Fuck, Sam!"

"I don't want porn star noises, but if you don't make  _some_ noise I'll think you aren't enjoying yourself." He nuzzled into your neck as he started a quick piston of his hips, which you met every motion of, using the way your legs were wrapped around him as leverage.

You definitely enjoyed yourself. Through seven different positions and two hours of not even caring that the entire bunker could hear you evoking all of your favorite gods and titans, he managed to keep you just on the edge of cumming and at the peak of enjoying yourself. When he buried his cock as deep as he could from behind, left hand fisted in your hair as the other put blinding pressure on the bundle of nerves he'd all but ignored during the whole event, you finally tipped over the edge. You screamed in pleasure as your legs gave out and the two of you fell to your mattress, nerves tingling.

"Jesus, Sam." You panted out, exhausted. He pulled you against his chest, chuckling as his cock slowly softened within you. "What?" You asked, turning your head to look at him.

"Did you run out of Pagan deities? Time to call on Jesus?" He asked, amused.

"Oh." You started laughing. "Shut up."

A knock on your door made you twist and grab your sheet. "Cover up, Sammy. I'm comin' in." Dean called. Sam smirked as he wrapped the sheet around his waist and you reached down to grab his shirt from the gloor, which you put on but didn't button. Dean walked in, balancing three plates on his arms. "Thought you might need lunch. Protein and carbs to replenish." He handed you each a turkey and cheese sandwich with a small bag of chips, then sat down in the chair next to your bed and took a large bite of his own sandwich.

"You know, Lucifer  _must_  be way weak, 'cause he was raging lie no one's business and nothin'. Not even a light bulb burst." Dean said around a mouthful of bread and meat.

"Oh, yeah. Probably should've mentioned that Lucifer knows I'm with both of you and is not happy about it."

"All the more reason to shake the rafters, sweetheart." Dean winked at you as you took a bite. "So, Cas, Jack and I were talkin' game plan for Apocalypse World and Cas thinks we should milk Lucifer for all the information he's got on this other universe before we head out."

You nodded. "I can do that."

"Yeah?" Sam asked, licking potato chip grease off of his fingers.

"He did it to  _me_. Dredged up this old memory from the depths of my mind, something from when I was  _days_  old. I'm sure I could get at his memories from a couple weeks ago." You shrugged. "I could  _not_  if you'd rather interrogate him for it."

"Tempting as that sounds..." Dean cleared his throat. "Your way's cleaner."

You smiled. "We're gonna get your mom. Promise."

"We believe you." Sam said, smiling. 


End file.
